The Progeny in the Parting
by Skole
Summary: One year has passed. B&B are meeting at the Reflecting Pool in DC, but one of them will not arrive alone. Who is this Australian? Pure fluff on what we wish had happened during their time apart. NOW COMPLETE. Reviews still welcomed!
1. The Australian Guy

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Rated T**

**Chapter 1 – The Australian Guy**

**Disclaimer: **BONES belongs to Fox & a whole bunch of really talented people. I'm just keeping the hiatus home-fires burning.

**A/N: Here be fluff, conjecture, wild speculation...and a little more fluff! Sorry Hart, I'm gonna do a Frank Sinatra here (My Way!)**

* * *

May 20th 2011 – Reflecting Pool, Washington DC

Seeley Booth stood motionless near the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, staring out over the Reflecting Pool. The Washington Monument stood just over 2000 feet away from him, piercing the horizon, standing opposite to him in mute silence. Tourists, school groups and office workers flowed around him at their own pace; meandering or hurrying by in accordance with the pull of their own lives. Those who passed by the imposing man in his full dress blues afforded him a wide berth, some people out of respect for the proud military presence he projected, others a little intimidated.

* * *

To get back home from Afghanistan in time, Booth had endured three days and one long, uncomfortable night of transport, snatching sleep when he could; followed by a five hour briefing at 0600 this morning. He was seriously too old for this shit. At the conclusion of the briefing, he had returned to his allocated bunk where his blues were hung pressed and ready for him. Taking advantage of the deserted facilities, he quickly showered and changed, taking extra time to groom himself because he knew that none of the guys from his unit would be around to give him a hard time about it. They were meeting at 1400 at their coffee cart. Bones had texted at 0500 to let Booth know that she would be there, and that she would be bringing _him_, despite Booths' objections. Booth was edgy as hell. The _Australian_ _guy;_ who went by the nickname 'Joey'. Booth had served with plenty of great Australian _'diggers'_ on this tour of Afghanistan and knew of their reputation.

Bones and the _Australian guy _had flown in together two days ago and were still suffering a twelve hour time-zone lag. As they crossed the International Date Line they had seen the sun come up twice in the same day. When she had spoken to Booth the previous week, over a crappily connected video call via satellite, Bones was happy – truly happy to be coming home, wanting to start a new life with 'Joey'. She loved him. They had been inseparable for the past four months. Booth was happy for her happiness, it was all he had ever wanted for her. He had seen the _Australian guy_ on a couple of their precious video calls between Indonesia and Afghanistan, but they simply had nothing to say to each other at this point. Booth had a feeling that this would change after today, he felt like his heart was being dragged down through his diaphragm into his gut.

.

"Booth?" said a voice behind him, as he flinched in recognition, mentally kicking himself for reacting to her like he had been goosed.

He turned to face her. The statue of Abe Lincoln was looking down on their exchange, so Booth decided to keep his cool out of respect to one of the founding fathers. She looked thinner, tired. Her hair was a little darker and shorter, but her eyes and her smile were the same. Brennan held out her free hand to grasp his, just as they had when they parted at Dulles twelve months ago. She looked at Booth and made a brief inspection of him from head to toe.

.

"I can see that you stayed safe. No unnecessary heroism. I note a few new medals, which suggests that you were called upon to be a hero at some point," commented Brennan, her eyes shining with tears.

"Bones" murmured Booth, who cleared his throat of the emotion that he was trying to hold back. He squeezed her hand, more to reassure himself that this was actually happening than anything else. "I see that you discovered many special things in the jungle. Would you mind formally introducing me to your Australian companion?"

"Certainly. I assumed that you had not dressed in full uniform simply to meet me" replied Brennan, giving him a direct stare and letting go of Booths' hand.

Brennan took her bag off her shoulder and lowered it to the ground. As she turned to allow Booth to step in for the introductions, she said,

"Seeley Booth, I would like you to meet Joseph. Joseph, meet Seeley"

As Booth extended his hand forward, Brennan moved her scarf aside and gave a frown as Booth paused.

"I would like to apologise for Joey's rudeness, Booth. It appears that ambulating across The Mall has induced a temporary state of somnolence. I assure you that he will awaken soon. He naps frequently and it is still the middle of the night for us" explained Brennan.

"Do y'think if I was careful not to wake him, Joey would mind if I kissed his Mom?" asked Booth with a wide grin on his face.

"I believe that I speak for the entire family in support of that suggestion. Now shut up and kiss me Seeley Booth" replied Brennan, grabbing his lapel with her free hand to drag him toward her.

"Yes Ma'am" said Booth, following orders.

.

As they half clung, half supported each other in a kiss that spoke volumes with tears mingling on their faces, a small squeak came from the sling over Brennans' shoulder. Their lips parted and their eyes met, then simultaneously glanced sidelong with mixed expressions of amusement and wonderment to where the sleeping infant stirred. Joseph Brennan-Booth flailed a chubby fist making tufts of his dark hair stick up in a way which confirmed his paternal heritage irrefutably. He opened up sleepy blue eyes, fixed his father with a stare that was pure Bones, yawned and stuck his fist near his mouth. Sucking on his phalanges, his eyes drifted shut again.

Booth reached into the baby sling and smoothed down the tufts of hair with a gentle caress of his thumb.

"He's pretty cute for an Australian, Bones"

* * *

**A/N: If you want to know when and why this happened, please review & I will post the back story. If you want to know how this happened, I suggest that you Google **_**coitus**_**.**


	2. Consensual Insomnia

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 2 – Consensual Insomnia**

**Rated T – for 'Toasty'**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own BONES. Nor do I believe for one second that anyone would want to lay claim to this.

* * *

**A/N: I discovered something...you guys 'like' fluff...a lot. Many thanks for all of the reviews, favourites and alerts – will attempt to send replies, but figured that you all would rather have another chapter than a PM! **

**Just to clarify a couple of queries. My home is in Australia, in the same time zone as the Maluku islands. Baby B-B is the 'Australian guy' because he was born here (and ****no**** that doesn't mean he is automatically an Aussie Citizen, however, most of us associate our birthplace with our identity). Okay, read on! All will become clear... Hold tight! We are going back in time.**

* * *

May 16th 2010, Washington DC – steps of the Lincoln Memorial

After spending a weekend wrapping up and packing up, they had agreed to meet for a couple of drinks and maybe a light meal. Booth had handed the SUV back to the FBI motor pool on Friday, so Brennan had picked him up from his apartment in her Prius, which she had arranged to store in one of Hodgins' garages until she returned from Maluku. Booth had invited her in, but his apartment was disconcertingly empty, her footsteps and their voices had echoed in a harmonic matched unbearably with the emptiness that they both felt. Hence, they found themselves sitting on the steps on the Lincoln Memorial as the sun set.

.

Booth would be signing in at the base at 0600 the following morning. Their remaining time together was seeping away as the temperature dropped precipitously on the late spring night.

Brennan shivered as a gust of wind blew over them from the direction of the Reflection Pool. She pulled her skirt around her knees a little. Booth automatically put an arm around her, rubbing her shoulder and upper arm in a vain attempt to warm her up. Brennan leaned in toward his torso, the stiffness in her posture deflating a little as she reacted to her zygomatic arch making contact with the perfect acromion under his jacket.

"Do you want to go and get a drink, Bones?" Booth asked, his hand was still moving up and down her arm, but in a more soothing motion. Brennan, who was seldom lost for words simply gave a small shake of her head and tried to cover a hitch in her breath with another shiver.

"C'mon, it's getting cold, so let's get you home Bones. At least you still have soft furnishings at your place." Apparently, Max was going to be staying on at her apartment when she left for Maluku.

"Sorry Booth. I am a bit of a wet dishcloth tonight" she responded despondently.

"Right, uh, that would be a 'wet blanket', Bones" corrected Booth, as he stood up and held out a hand to her. "Let's go. We can order in. It could be the last junk food either of sees in a while, so we should go all out on high cholesterol food tonight."

.

Brennan took his hand, attempting to smile at his typical banter, recognising that he was trying to comfort her. He could see right through her bravado, which evoked a heady mix of attraction and fear in her. Her smile wavered as Booth levered her up from her seat upon the step, and her already challenged bravado was assaulted with what this final evening together meant, could mean, and just how much she was going to miss his undemanding companionship over the coming year. The prospect of Daisy Wicks' company did not even meet the inclusion criteria for the position of companion in Brennans' mind. Booth tilted his head slightly to one side and gave her a mock smile of disbelief.

"Don't tell me you're gonna miss all of this Bones?" he asked, spreading his arms away from his body. He waved at the now indigo skyline of Washington DC, but Brennan knew from her observations of his behaviour in the past few weeks, Booth was referring to the two of them.

"More than I would like to admit at this moment," she deflected. "I can hardly rely upon Miss Wick to correct my faux pas..."

"Don't worry about it Bones. Hardly anyone will speak English on Makkapuloo, they won't even notice," countered Booth.

.

Brennan took a breath, preparing to correct his pronunciation and saw the crinkling at the corners of his eyes, which were pronounced by the floodlights reflecting off the monument. Booth was doing it again, in fact he hadn't stopped, it was her own lack of attention that was the issue. Each of those subtle displays of affection from Booth were like tiny hooks attached to her, with invisible lines pulling her toward him inexorably. Even thinking about pulling away right now made her wince emotionally.

Noticing that she had frozen in place, stuck in an emotional loop, Booth realised that he was not going to get any reaction by pushing the usual banter buttons tonight. Bones was as emotionally brittle tonight as he had ever seen her. As much as it killed him, Booth could not resist the impulse to pull her into the classic 'guy hug'. In a converse twist, each of her subtle displays of vulnerability placed a hook in him as well. Booth was simply more resigned to the inevitability of his situation than Brennan was at this juncture.

As she was pulled the half-step forward required to enter the 'guy hug', Booth folded his arms around her shoulders. Her forearms and hands had landed flat against his chest, she could feel his pectoral muscles and the heat radiating through his T-shirt. Unable to summon the will to push herself away from his comfort and warmth, physically or emotionally, Brennan moved her arms across his chest until they could make their way around under his jacket and around his torso. Trying not to think about the fact that his latissimus dorsi muscles felt just as good under her hands as his pectorals did, Brennan rested her head against Booths' chest. She allowed herself the luxury of experiencing the warmth and sensation without over-thinking things. It required her to temporarily disengage her super-brain from the situation.

.

"Bones?" ventured Booth after a couple of minutes into their short-term suspension of reality had elapsed. He had been reciting Saints for the last half a minute and it wasn't working.

"Hmm" she half-responded. Booth became a little concerned. Bones didn't usually vocalise her thoughtful pauses.

"I may not be able to come and see you off at the airport. The brass on base are unlikely to grant me a pass without adequate notice," he confessed.

"So this is it?" asked Brennan, with a touch of fatalism colouring her words. She hugged him a little tighter.

Booth huffed out a little breath. "Yup, tonight Bones. I report in at 0600 in the morning."

"I know" she responded against his chest, where a patch of dampness was spreading from her involuntary tears.

"I'm gonna miss you Temperance" said Booth unable to censor himself while they were clinging together like this.

"I know that...and I will miss you too," she murmured and leaned into him a little more. Booth rubbed his hand in an absent pattern across her back and she sniffled a little. Truth be told, Booth was tearing up too.

.

Brennan raised her head and tilted her chin up to look into his face. The words spilled out.

"You have to promise me that you won't take unnecessary risks Booth. Wear your protective armour. Make sure that your intelligence data has been validated before you head out on missions, and take meticulous care of your feet. The arid climate and desert boots can introduce all types of fungal diseases..."

Booth gave a wry chuckle, which stopped the tirade of cautionary advice. "Y'know Bones, giving overly solicitous advice to someone can be interpreted as a sign of love."

"I never said that I didn't love you Booth" she replied candidly, since it was impossible to deflect or dissemble from this truth.

"Yeah, I remember that Bones, but you never said that you did either" he responded with a flash of pain appearing around his eyes.

Brennan hated that look on his face. She wanted it to go away. "I thought that you knew...I just couldn't subject you to...me. Our partnership was..."

.

Booth partially extricated himself from their hug and placed his hands around her upper arms, fixating Brennan with an intense stare. "That's right Temperance. _'Was'. _All of that is on hold now, we have made commitments for the next year. So if you love me and I love you, then why the hell are we doing this?" he ranted in an exasperated tone.

Brennan took a breath, recoiling slightly from the harsh truth. She knew why, even though she didn't want to face it. So she told him.

"Because there is no other way to break this impasse, Booth. Neither of us can move forward and neither of us are prepared to move on. Historically , our working relationship has been highly productive, intense and synergistic; all of it to our own detriment. We have ceaselessly worked in situations that most people have no frame of reference for and we have disengaged ourselves from the anthropological norms of society. Skewed our ability to connect. We have only had each other as a frame of reference and support, it is burning us up."

"I think you mean 'burning us out' Bones. As much as it pains me to say it, I have to agree with you. But where does that leave 'us'?" Booth asked rhetorically.

"For the next year, on different continents, with communication via e-mail and satellite video calls" replied Brennan, who was compelled to respond to rhetoric. "Except, of course, for tonight..." she added.

.

"I'm not sure what that means Bones..." Booth looked into her eyes and saw that sparkle of certainty that she got when an irrefutable fact dropped into her intellectual lap. "Whoa there, Temperance! You want to go _there_..._tonight_?" he asked incredulously, dropping his arms to his sides in shock.

"Yes" she said decisively. Stepping right back into his personal space, she lowered her voice. "To use a gambling analogy, we have a singular opportunity to go _'all in'_, tonight. Are you still '_The Gambler'_, Booth?"

Booth glanced up at Abe Lincoln, sitting in mute judgement over this insanity, before taking her face between his palms. "Temperance Brennan, if you're sure that you're ready to go there tonight, then I am all yours...baby." She nodded in confirmation. "You do realise that neither of us will get any sleep tonight?"

"I am counting on it" she replied as she brushed her lips against his. "And don't call me baby", she chided.

* * *

They walked briskly back to where the Prius was parked, ostensibly because it was getting cold, but also because the clock was ticking. The ten minute ride to Brennans' apartment was spent in silent communication. Reassuring hand contact and furtive glances, small smiles. They had been simmering for years; so building of tension between them was not required.

.

As the elevator doors in her apartment building opened, Booth placed his hand in the usual place at the small of Brennans' back and guided her into the car of the elevator, hitting the button for her floor. As the doors of the elevator closed, the strip lighting on the roof of the cast a bluish illumination over them, which Brennan interpreted as a green light as she pushed Booth against the wall. He huffed out an indignant breath of surprise and found his head being pulled down to meet a hungry open-mouthed kiss, which he complied with, hopelessly juxtaposed between willingness and helplessness.

The muted _'ping'_ signalling their arrival at Brennans' floor broke the surreal experience and their lips apart. Booth cleared his throat and adjusted his _'Cocky'_ belt buckle. Brennan grabbed his arm and almost dragged him into the hallway. She was a woman on a mission.

.

Brennan employed her dexterous genius and kinesiological know-how, managing somehow to get her keys out of her bag and unlock the apartment with Booth pressed up behind her trying to sandwich her between himself and the door, attempting to devour the side of her neck in a rare display of impatience. The click of the lock brought his hands to her waist as he propelled her inside and kicked the door closed behind him with a flick of his foot.

Tossing her bag against the wall and dropping her keys, Brennan flicked on a lamp and turned around to face Booth and placed her hands over the lapels of his jacket. Pushing the garment back over his shoulders and pinning Booth with a stare laden with desire, intent, mischief and half a dozen other emotions, it was as if the shutters to the window of her soul had been opened. Booth was reeling, that stare had had him at _'desire'._ As he wriggled his shoulders to shrug off the jacket, Brennan spoke.

"Would you like something to drink Booth?" she asked. Booth was parched, but it wasn't a beverage that he needed right now. As his jacket hit the floor and his arms were freed, he reciprocated by pushing her overcoat open and back over her shoulders.

"Bones. I don't need a drink right now. You?" he asked as her overcoat landed in an untidy heap behind her. Brennan put her arms behind her to unfasten her skirt. Booth took advantage of the situation and moved one hand behind her neck and traced the fingers of his other hand across her clavicle and drew an imaginary line of intent down toward her cleavage.

"No. I'm fine," lied Brennan as her skirt pooled around her ankles and she kicked off her shoes, losing three inches of height. She was past the point of no return now, with control over her emotions seeming like a dream, or déjà vu.

.

"I think that the time for small talk is over, don't you Temperance? Suggested Booth as he grabbed his T-shirt and yanked it over his head.

Grabbing his belt on either side of that teasing buckle, Brennan stepped out of the pile of clothes at her feet, pulling herself into him. "I concur unreservedly" she said, dragging Booth in the direction of her bedroom.

"How do you manage to make big words sound so incredibly hot, Bones?" he asked.

"You inspire me, Seeley Booth" she answered, infusing multiple layers of meaning into her words, as she backed into her moonlit bedroom, the backs of her knees soon hitting her mattress, the rest of their clothes forming a symbolic trail of breadcrumbs illuminated by the lamp near her front door.

"The feeling is mutual," replied Booth as he guided them both to the place where the Laws of Physics were going to be challenged; hopefully enough to see them through a year.

* * *

May 17th 2010, Washington DC – Apartment building of Temperance Brennan

4:47 a.m.

The cab was waiting as Booth and Brennan stood on the chilly sidewalk, clinging together in a desperate kiss. They had a plan, a social contract, a newly reinforced bond over the remnants of their partnership, bypassing all of the lines and barriers of the past. It was apparent that the centre would hold through their separation.

"Go and get some sleep Bones. I'll call you before you leave, and try to come to see you off at Dulles if I can," urged Booth, still remaining in physical contact by gripping her hand in reassurance.

"I know that you will try to get there..." said Brennan. "You should know that I do love you Booth. I am afraid of what may happen, but I am no longer afraid of what you mean to me."

.

Booth let go of her hand and climbed into the cab, wary of the time. He didn't relish a reprimand on day one. Brennan folded her arms around herself in an irrational attempt to keep the imprinted physical memory of them close, and stop the cold morning air from creeping under the oversized shirt that she was wearing.

"We're gonna' be fine, Bones, because I love you too. You'll see..." he closed the door of the cab, which pulled away from the kerb into the chilly pre-dawn street. Booth gazed back out of the rear window of the cab, witnessing the end of a chapter of his life and the beginning of another.

Brennan dragged herself back up to her empty apartment, where she threw herself onto her bed, their bed because the evidence of Booth was still there. She curled up into a fetal position and wept tears of release, joy, sadness and many other spurious emotions until she fell into an exhausted slumber.

* * *

**A/N2: Here endeth my highly speculative missing scene. I must say that it was not easy to write, and a longer piece than I would normally post, but I was inspired by a song called 'Undisclosed desires' by the UK Indy band 'Muse' – I would urge you to have a listen, it is apt and prosaic. **

**I plan to continue on with this prequel journey if you want to join me. I will also be updating 'The Rings in the Heart' very soon.**

**Looking forward to your wonderful comments and reviews *sighs* - time for bed! **


	3. Never Going Back Again

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 3 – Never Going Back Again**

**Disclaimers: **I do not own BONES.

**A/N: This chapter takes place after the closing scene of the Season 5 finale...** **Never Going Back Again is a Fleetwood Mac classic.**

* * *

May 20th 2010 – First Class cabin – International Airspace

Temperance Brennan had finally fallen into a fitful sleep with an eye mask on, and earphones playing something gentle and melodic to block out the persistent noise of the A380 jets.

.

"_Temperance? You're not going to sleep on me are you?" he asked in a low voice that reverberated through her body, as her head rested on his chest._

"_No. I'm just...reflecting" she replied, trying to process everything that had transpired in the previous four hours and finding that there was 'insufficient disk space' in her super-brain at this time._

_His hand rand down the exposed contour of her torso in a kind of non-verbal worship as she rested on her side, half wrapped around him. The touch was not as demanding as it had been a couple of hours previously, but it communicated his need as eloquently as an embossed invitation. She responded in kind by tracing two fingers over the rectus abdominus muscles of his stomach, counting the 'six pack'._

_Squirming and shifting a little, Booth turned onto his side to face her, his eyes black in the greyscale tones of the darkened room._

"_We've got a whole year to reflect on this, you and I, don't you think?" he asked, resuming his tactile non-verbal worship._

_A fat fugitive tear escaped its lacrimal incarceration and ran betraying across her cheek. Booth tilted her face so that he could apprehend the tear with his still swollen lips, as it refracted the moonlight with a sparkle._

"_I know how to make you feel better," he offered._

"_I thought that you might..." she replied with a small grin, successfully distracted. She shifted her position to maximise the contact between them as they proceeded to add comfort sex to their horizontal dance card._

_._

Brennan awoke with a start, heart rate elevated, breathing rapidly and feeling a little too warm. Pushing her eye mask up over her eyebrows and tossing back her blanket, she lifted her head and glanced around the darkened first class cabin, which was illuminated gently by blue LED lighting. While she had slept, one of the unobtrusive cabin staff had put up her privacy screen, turned off her reading light, placed the journal that she had been reading in the elasticised magazine compartment at her side, and left a bottle of water where she could reach it.

.

Understandably, this wasn't the first dream of this nature that she had experienced in the past couple of days, but it was by far the most physically intense reaction that she had awoken with. Brennan put this down to the fact that it had only been a few hours since he had touched her again, perhaps reigniting her physical response.

The fact that Booth had technically gone AWOL from the base to see her off was not altogether unexpected. He was always going to be a rebel when it was warranted according to his own standards of right and wrong. Even though he had left enough distance between them for the Holy Spirit as they stood in the busy terminal, the moment their hands had connected, the memory of every touch, sensation and sound was triggered from the night they went 'all in'. Locking her knees, it had taken all of her willpower to remain standing upright in the middle of the airport.

.

Brennan took a long drink from the bottle, knowing that good hydration and avoidance of alcohol helped to minimise jet lag. She was thankful in a way that the nightmares engendered by Heather Taffett had been replaced by dreams of Booth. Reclining back onto her airbed, she curled up as much as the space would allow. She refused to cry again and pressed her eyelids closed stubbornly, only to be regaled with perfect recollections from her eidetic memory of his face above her, below her, beside her. Great! Even the faculties of her own genius were conspiring to keep her awake. Giving a growl of frustration, she hit the button on the console beside her to return the airbed to a chair position. Sitting forward, she placed her stockinged feet on the cabin floor and grabbed her laptop from the carry-on bag beside her. After firing up the laptop, she began to compose an e-mail to Booth, who she knew would still be on US soil for a couple of days until his unit was ready to deploy.

Although Brennan was not the best communicator in the world, when it came to the written word, she was confident that her ability would be more than sufficient to let Booth know how she was feeling. Her latest book had included e-mail exchanges between Kathy and Andy, which both Angela and the critics had raved about. The first class ticket included complimentary access to onboard electronic communication, so she could send her message and perhaps get back to sleep for a few hours.

* * *

_Booth,_

_I know that it has been less than a day since you came to the airport to see me off, but I have some things that I wanted to tell you before we become subject to the limitations of remote area communications._

_Firstly, thank you for not kissing me at Dulles. I am unsure what my reaction would have been, when the simple touch of your hand has left me burning and unable to sleep._

_Secondly, I have come to the realisation that we can never go back again. Not to what we were. I hope that my time in Maluku will allow me to come to terms with the shift in paradigm between us without the pressure of cases, convictions and court appearances._

_Finally, you need to know that I have no regrets for the decision that we made. It seemed spontaneous at the time, but in retrospect I believe that this outcome would have been inevitable. You have been trying to tell me for some time that everything happens eventually; I was remiss for failing to recognise the truth in your words. Hopefully, I will return from this sabbatical with a more open heart, even though I am not sure exactly what this process entails._

_Remember to take care of yourself; I shall be displeased if you return with vital parts of your anatomy damaged._

_Yours always,_

_Bones_

* * *

Brennan selected the military e-mail address for Booth from her contacts list and clicked 'send'. She stood and turned to place the laptop on her seat, deciding to grab the complimentary toiletry pack and try to freshen up a little. The cabin attendant poked her head out from behind a curtained section of the aircraft to see if Brennan needed anything. Brennan gave a small smile and a shake of her head and headed off to the first class bathroom.

Upon returning to her seat, she picked up her laptop and prepared to quickly check her mail before settling herself for a few more hours of rest. To her surprise, in addition to the automated receipt message confirming delivery, there was a reply. Selecting the message in the inbox window she opened it.

* * *

_Bones,_

_I wasn't expecting to hear from you before I ship out. I was hanging around the Communication Centre and writing a message for Parker when up popped your message. I couldn't sleep either for similar reasons. You've ruined me woman! But I feel better knowing that I'm not alone, huh?_

_It would have been great to talk a few things through on the weekend, but we got distracted I guess. Not that either of us were complaining..._

_If there is one thing that we've got now, it is time. Trust me, things will work out. Don't worry about my vital bits, Bones. I'm kind of attached to them y'know, and they came through Kosovo and the first Gulf War unscathed, so the odds are good._

_Hey gorgeous, I've got to go we have a 0500 start and I'm not as young a soldier as used to be._

_Love_

_Booth_

_P.S. Thanks admitting that I was right (for once)_

* * *

Brennan gave a grin and shut down her laptop and pressed the button to flatten out her seat into a bed again. She was going to try to get some sleep while the happiness generated by his words was still present.

Ten minutes later, when the cabin attendant checked on Dr. Brennan, she was curled around her pillow sound asleep with a peaceful expression on her face.


	4. Standing on One Leg

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 4 – Standing on one leg**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own BONES.

**A/N: Thanks again to all of you reading this…the stats went crazy yesterday, which made my inner scientist & data analyst 'squee' with delight (so sad, I know). Anyhow, today is my birthday and what better way to celebrate than to share something special with everyone – Brennan finds out she is pregnant. If you like this chapter, please indulge me in an experiment called the Birthday review :P**

* * *

July 10th 2010 – Maluku Islands 

It was yet another wet, muggy Maluku Saturday. In fact, pretty much _every_ day in this picturesque part of the world was wet and humid; it wouldn't be so lush and verdant if it wasn't. Brennan had been here for almost two months and no matter what the weather was like, Saturday was invariably one of the days that she spent in the blissfully air conditioned demountable buildings that formed the base camp / administration hub for the project. Saturday was also the day that Booth had his scheduled video call with her, classified mission parameters permitting. It was only five minutes in her busy week, but even with the academic excitement all of the amazing work that this project was generating, in her personal opinion, this particular five minutes was the highlight of her week. Although she was unsure how this weeks' call would be. Brennan had something to confess and she was not sure how he was going to react.

The Maluku scientific and support teams knew not to disturb Dr. Brennan on Saturday mornings, who typically rose around six o'clock, and after stretching through some yoga poses in the relative cool of the morning, ate some fruit and drank herbal tea in the small mess hall and then disappeared until lunchtime. Otherwise, as a senior staff member and administrator on the project, her door was always open.

.

The past fortnight had been challenging for Brennan, trying to keep the project running with most of her staff falling victim to gastroenteritis had been a real challenge. Staff running to the ablution block frequently had been the extent of the illness for the majority of the team, but one older member of the team who had diabetes had been a medivac case to Australia with a suspected bowel perforation. Brennan had hoped to fly to Darwin to visit him, but due to a lack of critical care beds the Australian Royal Flying Doctor Service had decided to send her colleague to the larger regional facilities in Perth. One of her colleagues was a Perth-based Anthropologist, who reassured her that the medical services in her home city were world class.

Her Australian colleague had made another observation on Thursday, when Brennan commented that she suspected that she may be coming down with a touch of gastroenteritis herself, despite being fanatical in maintaining camp infection control procedures.

* * *

Thursday, July 8th 2010 – Outside the Maluku Project mess hall

"I suspect that I may have a mild case of this gastrointestinal upset myself, Dr. Haynes" complained Brennan.

"Oh, I don't think so, Temperance" commented Dr. Haynes with an arch of her well manicured eyebrow.

"I'm not sure that I know what you mean by that. Your tone suggests that you are aware of something that I am not" retorted Brennan, feeling a little defensive despite the rapport that she had developed with this motherly woman in the past few weeks.

"Okay. Let me pose this as a question to you, one Anthropologist to another. Let's call it an observation made in the field" proposed Dr. Haynes, who had been an Anthropologist before Brennan could even spell the word.

Brennan relaxed a little, feeling comforted by the objectivity of her colleague. "Very well, Eileen. Please pose your assertion and I shall provide you with my opinion."

"Splendid" replied her fellow scientist. "If I have observed a recent change in a female team member; reduction in the height and length of steps, a slightly Antalgic gait with inward rotation of the foot. What would you conclude?"

She didn't have to think very hard about this. It was undergraduate level knowledge. "I would conclude that one of our team members is undergoing changes to the pelvic girdle associated with pregnancy. But I would like to have additional data to support my assertion" stated Brennan. "Eileen are you saying that you suspect that one of our team is pregnant and has not yet notified me."

"Bingo. Your assessment would be likely to be correct, but the context is not quite right. But you asked for more data. Would you indulge me in participating in a small experiment Temperance?" coaxed Dr. Haynes.

"Certainly, what would you like me to do?" asked Brennan.

"Please stand on one leg for ten seconds" requested Dr. Haynes.

.

Brennan gave a suspicious glance around the clearing where they were stood, checking for an audience, knowing the propensity of Australians for _'taking the piss',_ which she had discovered was nothing to do with obtaining urine samples. When she had related her discovery of this colourful colloquialism to Booth a couple of weeks ago, he had laughed until tears of mirth rolled down his cheeks. Apparently, he had been working alongside a unit from the Australian SAS in Afghanistan, and proceeded to give Brennan some advice to avoid falling prey to other larrikin pranks. The advice had served her well.

Looking back at the face of Dr. Haynes, she only saw sincerity, and puzzlingly a little compassion. Shrugging slightly, Brennan complied, standing on one leg and counting slowly to ten. She frowned a little as she passed five, experiencing some discomfort from her pelvic girdle and through her hip flexors. By the time she had reached ten there was pain, and the data was irrefutable. Brennan placed her booted foot down on the ground. Dr. Haynes was observing the penny drop, as an Anthropologist and as an amused member of the female sex.

.

"Shit!" exclaimed Brennan loudly. She looked down at her lower abdomen and placed her hands over the area with a poleaxed expression on her face.

"Swear Jar!," came an amused and unidentified voice, from somewhere near the mess hall. Brennan had endorsed the swear jar policy herself, in an attempt to minimise profanity on site that may insult the devoutly religious locals.

Brennan was startled by Eileen placing hand on her elbow. "From your reaction, I take it that you hadn't even suspected?"

"Well, I have been distracted since my arrival here. I had no reason to…"

Brennan trailed off, as the shock of her predicament hit home, along with other supporting data. Her last menses had been more than a couple of weeks prior to leaving DC, at the beginning of May…it was now the second week of July and she simply hadn't being paying attention. Putting down her fatigue to the sapping heat and humidity of Indonesia and her queasy stomach of the past few weeks to the gastroenteritis outbreak. In retrospect, the night that she and Booth had spent together was in her most fertile phase, which had been the last thing on her mind at the time. _'Damn that man and his super sperm'_ she thought.

Brennan felt an odd wave of cold, then hot sensation wash over her. With her vision clouding at the edges, the last thing she recalled was Eileen's voice saying "Easy there, girl", and hands supporting her fall into giddy blackness.

* * *

A cool cloth applied to the forehead brought Brennan around on a cot in an alcove of the 'lab', which doubled as the first aid station.

"Hey, welcome back" said Eileen in a sardonic tone. "Don't worry Temperance; we've been having at least two fainters a day since the start of the gastro outbreak. This little episode will just prove to the team that you are not actually super-human."

Brennan nodded in comprehension and put her hand over the damp cloth, wiping it over her face slowly to remove the evidence of a couple of tears that had arrived unbidden. She heard rustling sounds and the opening and closing of drawers, followed by an 'Aha!' of triumph from her colleague.

.

"Here" said Eileen, handing Brennan a plastic cup of water and a silver plastic package. "Take a drink. And when you're feeling up to it, go and pee on this stick – it's a pregnancy test, 97.4% accuracy if you follow the instructions, which I don't think will be an issue for you. You'll need that evidence before you make arrangements to tell your lucky man that he is going to be a Daddy. If that is what you want to do of course" added Eileen cautiously, seeing a fleeting expression of anxiety cross Brennans' face.

"Of course" replied Brennan, who moved to sit on the edge of the cot, realising that she couldn't put this off.

As if reading her mind, Eileen chimed in. "No point in putting this off. The joy of confirmation of your future progeny is an event to be remembered and celebrated. Myself, I laughed and cried, all five times. I'll stick around and validate the results for you if you'd like?"

Brennan looked at Eileen with a watery smile, and wondered why she suddenly missed her mother.

"I would like that very much, Eileen. Thank you"

.

Dr. Haynes was correct. Temperance Brennan discovered that it was indeed possible to laugh and cry simultaneously.

Now all she had to do was tell Booth.


	5. Proliferative Healing of the Heart

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 5 – Proliferative Healing of the Metaphorical Heart**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own BONES. But they can have this storyline if Hart Hanson suddenly gets amnesia…

* * *

July 19th 2010 – Classified location – Afghanistan

The false dawn backlit the distant mountain range, as a convoy of camouflaged Humvees approached the collection of dark tents and temporary shelters that made up the current base of the Army Rangers in the region.

As the dusty vehicles pulled into their designated area, Seeley Booth opened the rear door of the vehicle and exited, unfastening his chinstraps and unplugging the communication equipment. Taking off his headgear, the biting cold of a pre-dawn desert morning provided a jolt of alertness as it met the exposed heat and sweat on his scalp. Booth rubbed at what remained of his hair, which was cropped shorter than ever thanks to the buzz-cut happy barber attached to this unit. But there was no room for hair aesthetics in a combat zone, that kind of crap only increased the risk of your ridiculously good looking corpse getting sent home in a body bag.

.

"Sarge!" hailed a barely broken tenor voice, that Booth recognised as the baby of the team, Lopez. He skidded to a halt in front of Booth with an energy that only youth could muster up at this godforsaken hour. Lopez gave a hasty salute of greeting.

"Lopez" acknowledged Booth with a return salute, not breaking stride as he headed toward the main tent to report in. The younger soldier fell in beside him, his baby duck body language reminding Booth of Sweets.

"Sarge. C.O. wants you in his tent pronto. I thought I'd bring you this…" reported Lopez, as he handed Booth a paper cup that definitely contained something hot and caffeinated.

"Understood. I'm on my way…thanks for the coffee" said Booth, as he took the cup and strode toward the command tent. The younger soldier ducked his head and gave another salute, which Booth dismissed with a wave. As the kid peeled off and ran back to the assist the unit unload the vehicles, Booth shook his head. Lopez had a serious case of hero worship going on; hopefully he would emerge from this conflict with his enthusiasm for life intact.

.

Booth rapped on the partition frame to request entry to see the C.O. and took a sip of his hot drink, grimacing; the kid had put too much sugar in it.

"Come", responded the bass rumble of his commander. Booth entered to see the 45 year-old career officer, nicknamed 'Slippy' for his reputation for getting out of tight situations, sat on the edge of a crate; they had served together in Kosovo on half a dozen missions and had a respectful easy rapport. Nevertheless, Booth saluted with a snap.

"You asked to see me, Sir?"

"At ease, Booth" reassured his C.O. as he waved him to sit on an adjacent crate. Booth felt a clench within his chest, wondering what the hell couldn't wait until the debriefing. From the body language of the man a few feet away, this was clearly an informal 'heads up' meeting. Either someone had screwed up royally while he had been out on the mission or there was bad news.

"Just wanted to give you the heads up on a situation that came to my attention on Thursday" announced his superior officer.

"Yes Sir. Appreciate it, Sir" replied Booth.

"Seel. It's personal, okay" said Slippy.

"Okay Slippy, lay it on me" said Booth relaxing into a more informal mode, and indicating he was prepared for bad news.

"I got a call from way up the food chain. Requesting an urgent video conference. With you. Seeing as you were not available I was asked to speak to the requesting party directly. She's obviously well connected, and a real looker to boot" explained Slippy, punctuating his last comment with a grin.

"Oh God. Bones…" groaned Booth placing his head in his hands, and glancing up at his colleague. "Is she okay?"

"If you mean Dr. Brennan, yes, she appears to be just fine. But she was hell bent on trying to get a hold of you Seel. Seems like a woman who will do whatever is necessary when the chips are down. She's got cojones pulling a stunt like that. This is your FBI partner?" asked Slippy.

"Yeah. 'Was' my partner, until I signed on for this gig" replied Booth with more than a little chagrin in his tone.

Slippy gave a wry chuckle. "_Was._ So why is it that I get the vibe from you, and her, that this 'partnership' is still very much present tense, Seel? You're not the type to be casually knocking boots, and she is a major league catch, so I've got my money on true love. Am I right?"

Booth nodded mutely and gave a sigh. "It's complicated Slippy."

"Hey Seel. It's none of my business, but she looked a little shell shocked when I spoke to her, so go easy on her okay? But I imagine if it had been a life and death situation she would've commandeered Airforce One and been waiting for you here in person."

"I wouldn't put it past her. I'll have to tell you about our FBI escapades some time" said Booth with a laugh.

"That sounds like some civilian adventures that I wanna hear about," agreed Slippy. "Okay, Booth. I've authorised a double timeslot for your 0600 hook-up this morning. But take as long as you need, no one is awake in the US at this time of day anyhow. I'll sign off on it afterward. Now get out of here Seel. I'll see you at the 1400 debrief."

Booth stood and gave a salute. "Sir."

Slippy gave a rumbling laugh and dismissed Booth.

* * *

July 10th 2010 – Maluku Project, Indonesia

It was almost 10:30 a.m., meaning that it was close to 6:00 a.m. in Afghanistan, the time that Booth would be coming online for their weekly video call. Temperance Brennan was sat in the demountable block which passed for the administration centre on this project, picking at a couple of dry rice cakes unenthusiastically. She was feeling nauseated, allowing herself to feel it, as the ultimate feedback loop to a new experience. She was surprisingly happy to have these symptoms, because it meant that her body was still producing the hormones triggered by human chorionic gonadotrophic hormone from the developing fetus.

On Thursday afternoon, following the positive pregnancy test, she had pulled herself together and pulled some strings, attempting make contact with Booth using some of her Washington contacts. Unfortunately, according to the bemused Commanding Officer who had been ordered to speak with Dr. Brennan ASAP, Booth was out of the base camp on a scheduled training mission and there would be no opportunity for them to reschedule their Saturday morning call. Brennan had been polite and respectful to the senior officer, but he must have seen her anxiety, because he told her that under the circumstances he would authorise an extended time slot for their Saturday morning call. The Commanding Officer reasoned that whatever needed to be discussed between Sergeant Major Booth and the woman who had gone to all of this trouble must be very important.

Brennan took a sip of her chamomile tea savouring the taste, then grimacing as her stomach disagreed and balked at the insult. She pushed the cup and the plate with the rice cake away from her. Placing her chin upon her folded arms on the desk in front of her, she stared at the screen which was currently showing a test pattern. She closed her eyes and puffed out a breath, perplexed by her conflicting wishes to both banish and savour the mixed signals that her body was sending to her brain.

.

"Wakey, wakey, Bones!" said a familiar voice. She smiled and opened her eyes, sitting up so she was fully in view of the webcam.

"I am awake Booth. Just a little tired" she replied. "You look tired too."

"Yeah, well we just got into camp at 0500, so I'm planning on hitting the showers and getting some shut eye after this call" explained Booth. He would not discuss any other aspects of his work.

"I will try not to keep you too long then Booth" said Brennan reflexively.

Booth shook his head and gave her a grin. "I don't think so Temperance. Face it, you are never going to become a good liar. Plus, my C.O. hauled me into his office the minute I got back this morning, said you were in contact Thursday, even gave me a double time slot for this call. What did you do, call the President?"

"No" she replied, hoping that Booth was not in trouble as a result of her actions.

"But you pulled some strings in D.C., right?" he guessed.

"Yes" she admitted staring at his face on the screen and cursing the hormones that were making her want to cry.

"Okay, you've obviously got something on your mind and we don't have time for twenty questions. How about you dispense with the one word answers and tell me what the problem is? Whatever it is, we can work through it" reasoned Booth, putting as much reassurance into his tone as he could muster.

"Well, I don't think it is a problem. This about a discovery that I made on Thursday. I believe it is important because it affects us both…Booth, I…we… have conceived a child…" the tears were rolling down her cheeks and she pulled a tissue from out of camera shot and swiped at her nose.

"My God, you're crying…wait…can you run that by me again Bones? We did what?" he asked, thinking he was hallucinating from lack of sleep.

"I am pregnant. Meaning that we are going to become parents…if that is what you want of course…"

"Wow!" exclaimed Booth. "Are you kidding me?"

"I have confirmed the pregnancy. There is no humour intended Booth…" Brennan replied, a little concerned by the look of disbelief on his face, which turned to 60 inch flat screen TV and never-ending pie delight, as she clarified her statement.

"That is amazing news. You, are amazing." Booth half got out of his seat and put his face close to the web cam, his grin spread all the way across the screen on the computer in Indonesia. "I'm blown away. Do have any idea how happy this makes me?"

"From your reaction, I would say that you are extremely happy…" replied Brennan, now smiling broadly at Booths' antics and wiping at the tears on her cheeks. He pulled his face away from the web cam and pushed his chair back, taking a couple of strides toward the doorway and yelling.

"Hey guys! My girl is gonna' have a baby!"

.

Brennan laughed as she heard cheering and cat calls from Booths' unit.

"_Sarge! You sly dog. Still a stud at your age!" _teased a voice just out of camera range as Booth returned to his seat. He turned away from the screen and delivered a rude hand gesture to the speaker and kicked the door shut, which triggered more muffled jeers and cheers from the soldiers in the next room.

After the noise from outside was shut out, Booth could hear hearty chuckling coming from Brennan over the speakers.

.

"Okay, are you convinced _now_ that I am over the moon about this? Please don't tell me that you were worried about how I was gonna take this Bones?" said Booth.

"Yes. I am convinced and I must admit a little relieved" replied Brennan. "However, this is an unexpected event in our relationship, Booth. Even though I have expressed the desire for a progeny in the past, and you have indicated that you would like more children, the timing presents a number of issues."

"You could always go home again…" suggested Booth.

Brennan raised an eyebrow; she had been expecting this response from him. "I have no wish to return to D.C. at this time, I still require time away from the kind of work that we have done for the past five years. This project still provides me with the best opportunity to work in my chosen field, in a far less demanding environment. Booth, pregnancy is not an illness. Propagation of the species is a natural and Anthropological constant."

"Wow. It's obvious that you've thought all this through. I'm still gonna worry about you though…and our baby. So when are you due?" asked Booth, expecting no less from this remarkable woman.

"According to my calculations on, or around, the fifth of February. I am able to access some of the best pre-natal services in the region in Perth. One of my colleagues, Dr. Haynes is married to an OB-GYN there, and he has already offered to coordinate my case. He will be visiting the project with three of their five children in two weeks time and has agreed to see me then. Next week, I will also undergo routine blood work to check on my general health. I know from my observations of you with Parker that you will continue to be concerned for our welfare. I accept this, even though I find it somewhat irrational. Booth, I understand that you are being protective and that it is a demonstration of love. It makes me feel loved." Brennan was starting to tear up again and directly looked into the lens of the webcam, so Booth felt like he was there looking into her baby blues. "Damn hormones" she cursed with a sniffle and a self-depreciating crooked smile.

.

Booth wished that he was there to wrap his arms around her; she had referred collectively to herself and their unborn child instinctively. He saw this as the promise of her heart becoming more open through the experience of motherhood, and loved her even more at this at this moment than he had thought possible.

"Hey, hey. I know baby," he said soothingly.

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Seeley Booth, I wish that you wouldn't call me that" she admonished half-heartedly.

"Did you consider that I might actually be talking to our future son or daughter?" retorted Booth with a charm smile plastered on his face.

"You know full well that a 10 week fetus cannot hear Booth..." replied Brennan, and seeing the smile on his face, she said. "Ah, you are attempting to deflect using humour and that charming smile. By the way, I am both impressed and bemused by your virility. You are a dangerous man. If we had entered a physical relationship when we first met, I imagine that we would have had many children by now." She was teasing him now.

"Temperance, are you trying to tell me that you can't resist me?" replied Booth, laughing when he saw her self-conscious smile that confirmed the truth. "We really did go all in that night. I wanted to give you everything, show you how much I love you. I still do. I know you don't have my faith, but the hope that this new life gives me…it is a small miracle to me. God, I wish I was there with you now."

"I may not have your faith Booth, but I have faith in you" she replied candidly. "Even with the enormity of the work going on around me, I find that part of me thinks about you constantly. Remarkably, since the discovery of my pregnancy, I find this connection to you even stronger. It is fascinating that this hormonally mediated emotion is so comforting."

"It's called Motherhood, and love, Bones" he informed her. "You've just gotta roll with it, and come to terms that you'll be more about heart than brains for a while."

"This is acceptable to me, providing that I do not start to use my gut to make decisions" considered Brennan with a playful smile. "This week has been very interesting already Booth, would you believe that I discovered that I was pregnant by standing on one leg?"

"Say what?" said Booth, giving an incredulous bark of laughter.

.

Brennan began to relate the story in her usual engaging narrative, the one that Booth had played and bantered off for years. For the next ten precious minutes they talked, bantered, employed hyperbole and made innuendos, as they rode the crest of their mutual happiness.

The tyranny of time zones, distance and circumstance forgotten, it could have been just another day at the diner. So began the proliferative healing of the scars on their metaphorical hearts.

* * *

**A/N: Well, now Booth knows, and you know how it went down in my head. It has been a challenge to keep this in character in a very OOC scenario. I have to credit Ms Emily Deschanel *waves at very talented actor* with the inspiration to getting this dialogue polished – observing the subtle limits and dialogue inflections that she employs to convey the complexity and vulnerability in her character…simply brilliant – someone give the woman an Emmy already!**

**I could have kept the dialogue between B&B going, but I had to draw the line somewhere. I hope that the words that you find here have provided sufficient fluff to keep you happy until the next update… :D **


	6. The Care Package

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 6 – The Care Package**

**.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own BONES. If I did, I would be scouting for filming locations in South-East Asia and casting for babies. :P

**A/N: I really don't know where the inspiration for this is coming from - you may want to have a tissue handy for this chapter, I wanted to give Booth a little lovin' (Ahhh! Don't we all? - but I digress into the gutter again). I have been fortunate enough to visit Paris a few times on a variety of European adventures...perhaps the fluff-meister is inspired by all of you. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing - even a simple 'Aww' or 'Squee' is cool :D**

* * *

August 1st 2010 – Montemartre, 18th arrondissement – Paris

07:00 a.m.

Their Parisian apartment was on the top floor of a quaint 18th Century building, nestled in a quaint corner of the famous artist's quarter. The Basilica of the Sacred Heart stood white and gleaming against a powder blue sky looking down toward the Seine and trendy the Left Bank. Tastefully appointed, the temporary home of Dr. and Mrs. Jack Hodgins was an understated display of wealth and entitlement, and as romantic as hell. A summer heatwave was in full swing, hot still days, balmy nights, and fresh mornings like this one. The gorgeous terraced area was where Angela loved to sit each morning, taking in the sounds, smells and ambience of the awakening city. Jack was enjoying a Sunday morning sleep-in while she sat outside with a laptop making a Skype call to her best friend in Indonesia, where it was mid-afternoon.

.

A piercing scream shattered the morning, sending pigeons and other small vermin scattering for safety.

The scream was quickly followed by Angela hollering at a volume that was only a few decibels lower than the original outburst.

"Jack! Oh my God…get out here now!" demanded Angela.

.

Jack Hodgins staggered out onto the terrace, his blue eyes wide, sporting only a hastily grabbed bed sheet and an acute case of bed head. A saucy whistle from across the street drew his attention. A grey-haired lady was admiring the cheek of a well-toned ass that the sheet was failing to cover. He hitched the sheet around himself with a bashful grin and looked at his wife, who looked gorgeous as usual in a linen halter sundress – the look was only spoiled slightly by her gaping jaw.

.

"Okay. Now that you've woken up the entire eighteenth arrondissment, would you care to tell me where the fire is?" asked Hodgins in an exasperated tone.

"It's Brennan…" sputtered Angela, pointing at the screen of the laptop, which did indeed display a video feed of Temperance Brennan.

"I can see that Ange. You two spoke ten days ago in an identical scenario and you held it together then…" Hodgins moved into web cam range and gave a wave of greeting. "Hey Dr. B., you're looking well. Please excuse my wife, and my nakedness."

Brennan gave a smile and waggled her phalanges to her own web cam. "I am responsible for the screaming Hodgins. I had just informed Angela that I am pregnant, in retrospect, her reaction was not entirely unexpected."

"Wow! Congratulations!" said Hodgins, almost dropping his sheet in shock.

"Thank you" replied Brennan. "Now that I am in my second trimester, I have decided to inform my family and close friends of my condition."

Angela leaned forward toward the laptop, elbowing Jack out of the way. _"Second trimester! _So this wasn't some hot tropical hook-up…wait…this happened in D.C.? Oh my God, Sweetie, please don't tell me that you got knocked up by that twerp Hacker!"

Brennan shook her head with a smile at the stream of consciousness dialogue of her best friend. "I never engaged in sexual intercourse with Andrew, Angela. Booth is the father of my child and he is aware of the development."

"I seriously did not see that one coming," commented Hodgins.

"So did you use the stuff that he donated last year, or did you guys finally wake up to the fact that you are meant for each other and do the nasty?" asked Angela coyly, with a sultry smile.

"Ange…!" admonished Hodgins.

Brennan was unperturbed by the innuendo. "If by that you mean did I have sex with Booth. The answer is yes. We only had one night together, but it has become apparent that he is extremely virile."

"Virile? That term doesn't do justice to describe what he did to you that night, and I'm willing to bet that you weren't a passive participant either, Sweetie." Quipped Angela, as Hodgins shook his head at the antics of his wife.

A crooked smile crossed Brennans' face and she gave a low chuckle. "I am _not_ going to discuss that with you now, Angela."

Angela pouted, saying "I'll take a raincheck on that Bren."

"I don't know what that means, Ange" said Brennan with her classic expression of candid cluelessness in place.

.

Angela gave a dirty laugh in response, which meant that she would get the details at some point in the future. Another wolf whistle of appreciation came from the apartment across the street, their neighbour had brought a friend to take a look at Hodgins in his toga-wear. He grimaced.

"I'm going to put the breaks on the Montmartre peep show and go put some clothes on Ange. I'll talk to you soon Dr. B, take care of yourself okay?" said Hodgins in farewell, receiving a smile of affection from Brennan in return.

"Sweetie. We seriously have to do a care package for Booth. It must be awful for him not being around. You guys really know how to pick your moments. Okay Bren, what are you wearing? I can have this to Booth by suppertime in Afghanistan…" rambled Angela.

"What is a care package, and _why_ does what I'm wearing have anything to do with it?" asked Brennan, wondering what kind of artistic feat she was planning.

"You'll see, Sweetie…he's gonna love it.

* * *

August 1st 2010 – Undisclosed location, Afghanistan (suppertime)

Booth had checked his e-mail after dinner, and had been considering watching whatever game was being streamed in for the entertainment of the Army Rangers tonight. It was comforting to watch the joy that a little piece of home brought to the faces of the enlisted kids. But he changed his mind and went back to the privacy of his partitioned cot.

He had received one new message, but it wasn't from Brennan. It was from Angela, which he had been expecting, knowing that today was the day that she would have found out about the baby. Booth gave a wry grin and hoped that she was not going to rant, or worse, pry for salacious detail. The message had been short and to the point.

.

_Hi there Sergeant Major Studly,_

_Jack and I would like to congratulate you on being Brens' Baby-Daddy – she tells me that you are very virile, which I think is a squinty way of saying you're hot stuff. Hey, I'm not disagreeing here._

_As much as I'd like to give you the third degree right now, I was inspired to prepare a little something special for you, so I didn't get time to do anything else today. Consider yourself lucky Booth!_

_I have attached a care package for you, which I think you'll love. Download the attached Angela Montenegro Production video onto your laptop and go somewhere quiet to watch it okay? There are also some still photos attached, tastefully rendered by 'moi', so you can get them printed or whatever you desert rats do with photos._

_Stay safe, Sexy Sarge,_

_Ange _

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Booth was grateful for the heads up and wished he'd been told to bring the Kleenex. Angela was a genius, and he loved the saucy artist very much for her generous heart, she had known exactly what he needed. The video was professionally enhanced and beautifully compiled. How Angela had managed to coax Brennan into being so relaxed and playful for the camera with ten thousand miles between them, he would never know. With his earbuds in, Booth clicked the play icon on the screen for the third time.

.

The video commenced with a black screen, with "Angela Montenegro Productions" emblazoned across the screen. A voiceover of sorts began with Brennans' voice.

"_Booth. This is a care package for you. Although you already know how much I care about you, Angela tells me that I need to share some of my experiences with you to provide a connection with our child. It seems like an Anthropologically sound undertaking and Angela assures me that it will be fun." _

_._

The video of an ultrasound loop began, Angela had placed arrows and labels pointing out the features on the grainy image. There were also little speech bubbles placed near the head of the fetus in the scan, which said things like 'Hi Daddy!' and 'Mommy won't let me have pie'. Booth chuckled, that was never going to get old. The voice of Bones returned.

"_This is our child at 12 weeks gestation. I had this ultrasound done in Ambon. Although we cannot see them, fingernails and toenails are developing already. I find it remarkable that something that is only two and a half inches long and weighs only 15 grams is able to generate all of the symptoms that I have experienced. We also took a recording of the heartbeat, you know that I cried when I heard it. I am happy that you also have the opportunity to hear it Booth."_

_._

As the miraculous sound came through on the earbuds, Booth found himself tearing up yet again. He traced the outline of the ultrasound image of their child with his index finger.

The image of a very relaxed looking Temperance Brennan came onto the screen, there were a small amount of cosmetics applied which only served to accentuate her healthy glow. She was wearing a yoga crop top and fairly low cut leggings and smiled into the camera.

"_There are some changes in my body that Angela suggests that you might like to see. I was happy to pose in my underwear, Ange says that I should wear my yoga gear, just in case you want to show this video to some of your unit."_

_._

Booth found himself grinning at that comment. Bones stood side on for the camera.

"_I have noticed an increase in the size of my breasts and changes to my body shape. My arms and legs are a little slimmer, and in the last week I have developed what my Australian colleagues are referring to as a 'beer belly'. Of course, I am in fact abstaining from alcohol."_

_._

Brennan looked down at the slight protrusion where her previously flat lower abdomen had been, she caressed the small bump absently with her hand. The unconscious habit of pregnant women for time immemorial, it looked good on her. She directed a bright smile at the camera.

"_When I see the external evidence of our child like this, I find myself almost overwhelmed with happiness. I believe that this experience is part of what it means to be human. I hope that you see this and feel it too Booth."._

Booth paused the video, swiped the tears from his cheeks and kissed the image of her belly on the screen.

* * *

**A/N 2: Awww! Could this get any fluffier?**


	7. The Letter: My Baby She Wrote Me

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 7 – The Letter (My Baby She Wrote Me)**

**.**

**Disclaimer: **Following an intensive audit, I can conclusively state that I do not own BONES. The title is from the Joe Cocker classic.

**A/N: Hello BONES fans… *waves* - thanks for all the reviews, alerts, favourites and encouragement. I hope that you get as much out of this story as I do – it helps to keep my mind off the Season 6 premiere.**

* * *

August 10th 2010 – Maluku Island Project, Indonesia

After completing a four hour shift extracting ancient bones from their earthy treasure chest, Dr. Eileen Haynes knuckled at the small of her back. The team had found what appeared to be a small group of what promised to be their hybrid Homosapien subspecies five days previously, and it had been all hands on deck to get the large influx of work completed. From the most eminent academic to the greenest undergraduate student, everyone put in their shifts at the site. The canopies were up over those digging, brushing, extracting and cataloguing the bones. Anthropology didn't get much better than this. Conversations carried on in a few different languages, but English was predominantly the language for Project communication. Not that language presented a barrier to her colleague, Dr. Temperance Brennan, who was proficient in at least six languages and did pretty well in any language that she was challenged with, including the local Indonesian dialect.

.

Standing in line until she reached the camp kitchen, Eileen grabbed a mug of tea for herself and a mug of hot water with a herbal tea bag for Temperance. All that Eileen needed to do now was to find where their intrepid Project Lead had disappeared to. It was almost dinner time and she had a habit of forgetting to eat when she was distracted. Peering around the edges of the clearing, Eileen spotted a booted foot belonging to Temperance; she was sitting with her back resting against a tree, looking out toward the waters of the local bay, which were a cerulean blue today. Trudging across the uneven ground, Eileen approached the shady spot and found Temperance with a notebook resting precariously on one knee, a pen loosely in her right hand, and her left hand resting over her growing belly, sound asleep.

.

"I brought you some tea Temperance. We'll be breaking for dinner and heading back to the main camp in an hour," said Eileen in a low voice, so as not to startle the younger woman.

Brennan opened her eyes and realised that she had fallen asleep. She thanked Eileen for the tea, taking the cup from her and sitting up into a cross-legged position. Eileen took a seat beside her and took in the view of the calm waters, sipping at her hot tea.

"How was your shift?" asked Brennan.

"Managed to get the left radius, ulna, hamate, scaphoid and cuboid out intact. I thought that you had a conference call at the main camp this afternoon, but young Daisy Wick mentioned that she'd seen you about an hour ago" commented Eileen.

"I received a radio message that the satellite link was down, so I decided to stay here for a few more hours. I have a letter to write, so sat here for a while…I must have dozed off" admitted Brennan taking an experimental sip from her own mug.

Eileen gave a snort of laughter. "If you took a nap before lunch, you'd be able to make it through a whole day. It's all a matter of balance."

Brennan gave a frown. "I don't enjoy being treated like a child."

"Then stop being stubborn like one, Temperance, and _accept_ your physical limitations. You'll be no good to anyone here if we have to ship you off to Ambon for enforced bed rest. You agreed to the rules when Phil signed off on your medical clearance for the organising committee. Did you think that our recent discovery suspended those conditions?" chided her colleague.

"This latest discovery is critically important to the project, Eileen. I should be contributing equally."

"That would be a valid argument if your interpretation of an equal contribution wasn't a sixteen hour day…," quipped Eileen.

Brennan gave a small smile at that comment, recalling years of this ongoing argument with Booth.

"You've got that look on your face again. Thinking about your man again?"

"Yes. During our partnership, Booth frequently expressed misgivings regarding my long working hours and eating habits. You are correct Eileen, I should schedule a rest period, particularly while my iron levels are still low" agreed Brennan.

"Are you writing your letter to Booth?" asked Eileen.

"No…this letter is to my Dad. He doesn't trust e-mail, or unsecured phone lines, so I am writing to tell him about my pregnancy."

"Ha!" laughed the older woman. "Sounds like my Dad, he doesn't even trust television…How about you sit here resting for the next hour and write your letter, then I can stop nagging you."

"That sounds reasonable" replied Brennan with a grin.

* * *

Max Keenan received his letter four days later, via the fastest available snail mail service that the modern world provided. He had heard rumours that his baby girl had finally taken the plunge with her FBI partner, he heard those Chinese whispers every couple of weeks; but they had both run off to far off lands before he could corner either of them. Tempe had left him with the keys to her apartment and detailed instructions for the care of her local affairs in her absence. He and Booth were not on comfortable terms since the most recent arrest, following their latest fist fight.

.

So, was going to be a Grandfather. His baby was having a baby and Booth was the father. Max knew that the guy wasn't gay, but he sure had taken his sweet time wooing Tempe. She hadn't provided too much detail in her letter, assurances that she was looking forward to becoming a parent, a candid admission that the pregnancy was not planned, that she was satisfied with her situation. From Tempe, this was tantamount to jumping around with glee, just like she used to when she was taken to the ice-cream parlour at four years of age.

Despite the distrust of e-mail, Max decided to contact Booth. It would be too tricky to stow away to Afghanistan for a '_mano-a-mano'_ chat. Not impossible, but Tempe would be bound to find out. Those two were tighter than his butt cheeks in a federal penitentiary, even before they became lovers. Max was not foolish to upset this particular pregnant lady, especially if she was anything like her mother had been.

* * *

Booth was a little perplexed when he received an e-mail from someone called Dr. Columbus at the Jeffersonian Institution, until he realised that Max had managed to hack into their e-mail server and set up a dummy profile. For an old school crook with an acute distrust of electronic communication, Max Keenan either had pulled some strings or been attending cyber-criminal classes at night school. Booth didn't want to know.

.

_Booth,_

_It seems that congratulations are in order for the both of us. Tempe is going to give me a grandchild and tells me that you are responsible for this joyous event. My sources tell me that you are a good father, and I sincerely hope that you continue to live up to this reputation. Although you have proven yourself a worthy adversary in the past few years, perhaps we should refrain from knocking each other around from here on in – it would be a poor example for the child._

_I'm really glad that you didn't turn out to be gay, son._

_Columbus_

_._

The message was pure Max; signing off as Columbus suggested that there was burning stake on a rooftop waiting for Booth if he screwed things up with Bones. The gambler in Booth knew that the odds of that ever happening were very, very long indeed.

* * *

**A/N 2: Please forgive the fluff reduction in this chapter…to use a metaphor, think of this chapter as a prelude to a tsunami – the fluff tide has gone out, but there is a big wave coming in next. I just finalised the chapter plan and had a 'Squee' moment (I shouldn't tease…*starts making final edits to next chapter*).**


	8. Constant Craving

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 8 – Constant Craving**

**.**

**Disclaimer: **BONES does not belong to me. But it's the hiatus, & watching re-runs is just not going to satisfy the cravings (Yup! Even the disclaimer has a theme…). Kudos to KD Lang for the chapter title.

* * *

August 28th 2010 – Dawn – Maluku Islands, Indonesia

Fingers of sunlight pried around the window blinds and tapped insistently on the eyelids of Dr. Temperance Brennan. She was emerging from sleep into a hypnagogic state, hovering on that edge of wakefulness; but wanting to return to the tantalising comfort of the dream where she was lying within the arms that she craved. But it was not to be, as the call of daylight was joined by the complaints of a bladder that had seemingly shrunk to the size of a pea in recent weeks. Brennan rolled onto her back and opened her eyes with a grumble, to arise and serve the detrusor muscle that must be obeyed.

As she traipsed back from the ablution block in her yoga sweats, a pang of realisation hit her. It had been one hundred days, twelve thousand score of minutes since they had parted; a bittersweet milestone. It was Saturday. At least today after lunch, she could see Booth on her computer screen and speak with him; that would go part way to assuaging that which she craved. However, finding some chocolate was going to prove a little more difficult until the supplies from Ambon arrived later this morning. It was completely irrational to want the taste of chocolate so badly, but Brennan rationalised that it was hormonally mediated and resigned herself to living the phenomenological experience of a chocoholic. As with all cravings, there was an ultimate model of perfection, unaccountably, hers was a Hershey Bar, which was unlikely to be found within a thousand miles of her current location. Angela had sent her a 'care package' of Swiss chocolate, which had been wonderful and summarily devoured. Brennans' mission to seek out chocolate stashes at the camp had finally alerted the entire Maluku Project to the fact that she was pregnant, and netted her a few kind chocolate donations in congratulations from her colleagues in the process.

.

As Brennan worked through her yoga stretches on the small sandy beach bordering one side of the cove next to the dig, she considered her busy week ahead. On Tuesday she would be heading to into Ambon for a consultation and anatomical ultrasound scan. Brennan wanted to find out the sex of the baby, because she saw no issue in doing so and really didn't like surprises; Booth predictably still had traditionalist mixed feelings.

After a leisurely breakfast and heading off to the showers, Brennan got dressed, frowning at the extra snug fit of her cargo pants this morning. She would need to purchase some new ones in Ambon and considered that being taller than most Indonesian women, she may also need to order some new clothes online, and was positive that Angela would be happy to help her out. The forecast for today was for no rain; so many team members were taking advantage of a dry day, stringing up makeshift washing lines and doing laundry in buckets and tubs. Brennan didn't feel like washing her clothes, but they weren't going to clean themselves; she applied herself to the menial task at hand, hoping that it would take her mind off chocolate for a while. An hour later, with clean clothes drying in the sun, Brennan put on her hat and headed off to the mess to grab a piece of fruit and a herbal tea.

.

Arriving at the mess, there was the expectant buzz of the Saturday morning crowd. They were all waiting for the supply truck to arrive; Saturday deliveries included mail, which for many people meant packages from home, or online shopping sprees. As she sat with her mug of tea and considered a second piece of fruit, the truck arrived. Brennan was unable to suppress her smile and surreptitiously covered her reaction from her colleagues by taking a swig from her mug. Having signed off on the commissary order herself, she knew that it was only a matter of time before chocolate would be hers.

"Dr. Brennan, Dr. Brennan! The truck, the truck!" exclaimed Daisy Wick as she rushed toward the mess, in an unwitting impromptu parody of Tattoo from Fantasy Island - which was completely wasted on Brennan of course. Judging by the scattered sniggers from others gathered in the area, as the humour in the antics of the young American were noted.

"Miss Wick. Why are you repeating yourself? I am aware that the truck has arrived" said Brennan in a tone which stopped the squeal of delight that Daisy was planning to unleash in its tracks.

Daisy gave a little squirm as she visibly composed herself. She proffered a package wrapped in brown paper toward Brennan. "You've got a package from the mail, Dr. Brennan." Unable to stop herself, Daisy added in a pantomimed stage whisper. "It's from _Afghanistan!_"

Brennan took the package from Daisy, raising an eyebrow at her in chagrin. It weighed a couple of pounds at least. The postmarks and customs stickers confirmed that the package was indeed from Booth in Afghanistan.

"Yes, Miss Wick. I can see that. Thank you for bring this to my attention." Brennan stood and clutched the package against her chest, grabbing her mug and a banana as an afterthought. Daisy Wick knew a dismissal when she heard it and watched Brennan with a mixture of awe and disappointment as she walked toward the privacy of her room.

* * *

Sitting on what passed for a bed in this part of the world, Brennan absently peeled her banana and munched contentedly as she made an external examination of the package. Booths' handwriting, an inked Rangers stamp with '_Rangers Lead the Way'_ emblazoned below it. Tossing the banana skin into the trash, she began unwrapping the package wondering what Booth could possibly find in Afghanistan that he could send to her.

A shrink-wrapped inner package was accompanied by a buff coloured envelope, which contained a note and a photograph. Brennan laughed out loud at the photographic record of how the package had come to be. Booth was stood, surrounded by a dozen Rangers in dressed in camo pants and singlets, next to a card table with a couple of dozen Hershey Bars stacked on it. The staged scenario clearly had been triggered by Angela Montenegro, Brennan hadn't confessed her Hershey Bar fantasy to anyone else. There was a makeshift banner attached to the front of the table proclaiming:

'_Hershey Bar Craving Drive – please give generously. All proceeds benefit Booths' Baby-Mama'_

_._

Some wit had stuck a sheet of paper with the word 'CENSORED' in block printing over the front of Booths' pants, making her laugh out loud again. Brennan unfolded the note containing a handwritten missive.

.

_Bones,_

_On behalf of our unit and the 76__th__ Army Ranger battalion, please accept this donation of Hershey Bars. 'Rangers Lead the Way!'_

_A little Parisian bird told me about your fantasy, and suggested that I was the appropriate person to fulfil it. Me and the guys had a little fun putting this together as you can see from the photo._

_Before you start devouring the chocolate Bones, can I put in a request of my own? Save at least one of those Hershey Bars for our next video hook up. I want to watch you eat one – call it a little fantasy of my own…_

_Love and belly kisses,_

_Booth_

* * *

**A/N: What is coming next? Do I take it that you want to read about the implied moment?…or, we can just move on…**


	9. Chocolate Innuendo

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 9 - Chocolate Innuendo**

**.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bones, or Hersheys chocolate (nom, nom, nom).

**A/N: The votes are in, 90% of readers want to see the implied moment. This assumes that reviewers are a representative sample of all readers (this result is not statistically significant) *slaps down inner analyst***

**Okay, fellow passengers on the good ship 'Hiatus Hell' – for your onboard entertainment. This is a strong T, tap dancing by implied imagery on the edge of a rating change. Commence reciting of Saints at will. This is a long chapter, so enjoy.**

**Drop me a line by review or PM if you want to comment or say G'day!**

* * *

August 28th 2010 – Maluku Islands, Indonesia

Despite taking supplements, the toll of low iron levels had a sapping effect which hit Brennan just prior to 11:00 a.m., with a force approximately equal to that of Gordon Gordon Wyatts' beautifully constructed brick barbeque. After folding and putting away the last of her clean clothes, she took off her persistently muddy boots, tucking her rolled up socks in the tops to stop wildlife from creeping within, and placed them outside her door to dry off in the hot sun. Inside her meagrely appointed accommodation, she took a wet wipe to her face, hands, and the back of her neck and finished up her bottle of water.

As she placed the bottle on her bedside table, an open Hershey Bar packet crooned its chocolatey siren song. Punch-drunk on a wave of fatigue, Brennan snapped a piece from the bar and reclined back on her bed, she held the chunk of confectionary between her fingers and stared at it; examining it like she did bones, hoping to trigger the Zen-like state of calm and rationality that was usually achieved. It was an epic failure. The siren call and the buzz of her fatigue had entered into a discordant harmony and there was only one way to stop it – Temperance Brennan surrendered by popping the piece of Hershey chocolate into her mouth. Savouring the taste, the rush of sugar and onset of endorphin release, she closed her eyes and rode the wave of warmth and comfort into sleep...and dreamed.

.

_Brennan was standing on the forensic platform of the Jeffersonian Institute, staring with a mixture of mild annoyance and bemusement at Dr. Hodgins' latest experimental contraption. He was babbling on happily about the tolerances and resistances built into his model, which would assist in conclusively proving, or disproving his hypothesis. The outcome would solve the case and he would be indubitably crowned 'King of the Lab'. Brennan nodded her agreement to his logic and reasoning, Hodgins clapped his hands together and started to attend to knobs and levers that would crank the experimental machinery._

_Noticing that her fitted lab coat was tighter than usual, Brennan glanced down. She couldn't see her feet, because she was pregnant. Of course she was, her dream-self rationalised, having unprotected sex with a man who had 'super sperm' was the inevitable outcome of the scenario. As the platform alarm chirped to admit someone, Brennan mused that she must ask Cam to order her some larger lab coats._

_._

'_Bones' said a familiar voice behind her._

_She turned to see Booth in her favourite grey three-piece suit; although he was wearing a camouflage waistcoat and Army Ranger belt buckle today for some reason._

'_Hi Booth. Hodgins is just about to commence his experiment. Also, I have discovered that my lab coat is too small, and I cannot see my feet.' She reported._

_Booth came to stand behind her as the whirring of the experimental contraption began, and placed his hands on her hips. She leaned back against his incredibly firm body and gave an involuntary exhalation as his hands travelled over her gravid belly, caressing as his arms pulled her body more tightly against his own._

'_You're a genius Bones, my own incredibly… hot… genius…' said Booth as he interspersed his words with hungry kisses around the collar of her lab coat. _

'_Dude. You took long enough to reach that earth-shattering conclusion…' quipped Hodgins._

'_Hey! Bug-man. Official FBI seduction in progress here. Get back to your experiment!' growled Booth._

_Brennan could feel Booths' insistence in his hands, his lips, his hot breath, the tumescent heat behind her; which most definitely not emanating from a belt buckle. Fervently wishing that she was horizontal, or a least pinned against a wall, she shivered involuntarily and closed her eyes, enjoying both the stimulus and her response._

_._

_A wet popping sound came from Hodgins' experiment, Brennan opened her eyes to see Hodgins with his blue eyes wide, and his mouth in a 'O' of surprise as the experiment exploded. The next thing she knew, the entire forensic platform was covered in goop; chocolate pudding to be precise._

_Booth had been shielded from the pudding explosion by Brennan's standing in front of him, but he had still been splattered with quivering gobs of the stuff. He extracted himself from their embrace and threw his hands in the air._

'_Damn it, Hodgins. This is my best suit. If I didn't love chocolate pudding so much, I would shoot you, right here on the platform.'_

_Hodgins looked suitably apologetic. 'Sorry Dr. B. Sorry Booth. I'll get some spoons. Don't worry, it's a vegetarian recipe!' he said as he scuttled off to find some cutlery, slipping and sliding a little on patches of pudding._

_._

'_Are you okay Temperance?' asked Booth._

'_I am covered in chocolate pudding, but otherwise unharmed. I will change my lab coat and try to clean off some of this mess,' she replied._

'_Oh, I can help you with that…' said Booth in baritone bedroom voice as he unfastened her lab coat and leaned in to kiss and lave a splatter of pudding from her jaw line with his tongue._

_Brennan felt a wave of heat rush through her body, which threatened to boil the pudding on her skin away like water on a hot griddle plate. As the ruined lab coat dropped to the floor with a wet smack, she realised that under her blue lab coat, she was only wearing her underwear and a pair of four inch heels. This didn't faze her, she had agreed to pose in her underwear for Booth and she wasn't ashamed of her body._

_Booth placed a large warm hand on her shoulder as knelt before her, he began working his way down her décolletage in a glossal hot pursuit of pudding, he asked her 'Are you okay Temperance?'_

_She frowned and replied with a flash of impatience. 'Of course I am. Now shut up and eat your pudding Booth' _

* * *

"Are you okay Temperance?" asked Eileen. Her hand was on Brennans' shoulder shaking it gently.

She opened her eyes to see her colleague leaning over to peer at her face, with a hint of concern. Brennan nodded and rubbed at her jaw line, where Booths' dream lips had been. Blinking a couple of times to banish the mildly erotic afterimages still burning on her retinas, she pushed herself up to sit on the edge of her bed and grabbed a fresh bottle of water to take a drink.

.

Eileen had taken a seat on a wooden stool across the small room. "Wow! You were sleeping like a log, Temperance. I thought that I should wake you, lunch is being served, and you've probably got a little time to freshen up before your video call."

"I just experienced a very bizarre dream, Eileen. Perhaps I should refrain from eating chocolate before napping. The high sugar content probably overstimulated my resting brain," rationalised Brennan.

"Hmm. I'm not sure about the sugar theory, but weird dreams are common in pregnancy. Personally, I'd peg it on the hormones. Giving up chocolate is probably unnecessary" said Eileen thoughtfully. "By the way, Daisy has made a chocolate pudding for dessert. She asked me to tell you that she ordered a vegetarian recipe and that you should bring your own spoon. We seem to be running short on cutlery again. In a couple of thousand years, I'm sure that someone will dig them all up and wonder."

.

Brennan gave a grin and told Eileen that she would be out for lunch in a couple of minutes. Strange coincidence or sub-conscious assimilation of camp conversations going on outside her room as she slept? But she was hungry, and chocolate pudding sounded like a good idea. Taking the photo of Booth with his unit doing the Hershey Bar Drive, Brennan used a couple of pins to secure it onto the square of cork which passed for a noticeboard upon her wall.

* * *

An hour later, Brennan was logging on to her computer and checked that the web cam was operational. Five minutes was not a lot of time to talk and wasting time troubleshooting technology was something that was not acceptable. When she opened up the application and selected the IP address for Booth, it indicated an offline status. She still had a couple of minutes. Her eyes fell on the Hershey Bar next to the keyboard and Brennan gave a chuckle and smiled at Booths' request that had been in his handwritten note.

.

"God you're beautiful when you smile like that" said Booths' voice. The computer gave a chime as the video feed came online and his face appeared, wearing the smile that Brennan realised that he reserved just for her.

"Thank you for making me smile Booth" she deflected. "I received your care package this morning, which has made me unaccountably happy. It was very thoughtful of you and your unit. I would like to say thank you to them personally if that is possible."

"Hang on a sec Bones" said Booth. He leaned back on the chair and yelled out to the recreation room outside the door. "Hey guys! She got the package and wants to say thanks. If you want to say a quick hello, you've got ten seconds to get your ugly mugs in here. Lopez, put a bag over your head before you get in here, you'll scare the baby."

.

Brennan laughed at the highly trained soldiers clowning around as eight Rangers crowded around Booth, proffering a cacophony of greetings as they jostled to get into the camera frame.

"Hell Sarge, she is one smokin' hot Mama!" commented a Corporal in his twenties, which set off a chorus of jeers and leers.

"Martinez, please slap the Corporal upside the head for trying to hit on my lady" ordered Booth.

"Sir! Yes, Sir!" said Martinez, clapping his buddy on the back of the head as the other members of the unit laughed.

"Okay, simmer down. This is my dime we're talking on, so let the pretty lady speak alright?" said Booth in a tone reminiscent of their time as Tony and Roxie, with a twinkle in his eye.

Brennan smiled indulgently and made a brief speech of thanks."As you are aware, I, like all of you, am very far from home. During my career, my work has taken me to many isolated places across the globe, but this is the first time that I have attempted this while pregnant. Receiving your gift has made me feel very special and privileged. You already have a difficult job to do, and I really appreciate your kindness. Please take care of yourselves. I hope to return the kindness to you all some day."

The gathered Rangers gave a cheer.

"Okay, okay. Get outta here so I can talk to my girl in peace!" barked Booth. The men dispersed and the door was shut.

.

"Nice speech Bones. How are you?" he enquired.

"I am still tired from low iron levels, but I am taking adequate nutrition, rest and supplements as directed by my doctor. Would you like to see my bump, Booth? If the fit of my pants is any indicator, the size has increased this week."

After realising what a kick Booth got out of belly-watching, Brennan was eager to do a show and tell every week. She stood and loosened her cargo pants and wriggled them down over her hips as she turned side on to the camera.

"Wow, Bones. You've really popped out this week. Seventeen weeks huh?"

"Yes, technically eighteen weeks tomorrow," she replied rubbing in a circular motion over her bump. "It feels very firm now. I am looking forward to the anatomical scan this week. It should be very informative. I have already arranged for Angela to send a video package to you, seeing as you enjoyed the first one so much."

"I watch it every day, Bones."

Brennan moved back to sit in front of the computer. "You do?" she asked.

"Seriously. I cannot get enough of you, our baby, us. It's like breathing Bones."

"This, is love" she blurted in recognition, her eyes getting a little misty with emotion. "Love, as I am beginning to understand it, Booth. The experience of having a child is teaching me through instincts that are awakening in me as part of the reproductive process. However, I recognise that you and the relationship that we have had for all these years has established a foundation for me to re-build my ability to love. You are the architect of my heart."

"I love you too, Temperance. And there is no way I could say it as beautifully as you just did." Booth replied in a voice rendered unsteady in reaction.

"I know you do. Our son or daughter will be a very fortunate child" said Brennan decisively.

"Yeah, about that," said Booth. I've decided that I want to tell Parker next week. Rebecca knows, but after speaking with her, I think it would be better to tell him whether he is going to have a little brother or a sister. So you'll need to let me know after the scan. He may want to get in touch with you Bones, is that okay?"

"Absolutely, Booth. I have missed Parker and would enjoy speaking with him very much" she replied.

"Thanks Bones. He misses you too. Although I think that he will be more interested in talking about the poisonous snakes, bugs and digging up creepy skulls than baby-talk."

"Then, I will play along with my hearing" said Brennan.

"I think you mean play it by ear, Bones" he chuckled. He gave another deeper chuckle, indicating his mind had ventured into adult territory. With a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows and a charm smile plastered in his face, Booth asked, "Speaking of playful, did you bring along a Hershey Bar?"

"Yes. I did. But you have watched me eat many times in the past. I wasn't aware that you had developed a fetish for it."

"No, no, no. Hell no! It is _not_ a fetish. Let me ask you a question Bones. Now that you are having this baby, compared to before, how do you feel when you get to eat a piece of chocolate?"

Brennan considered her response for a moment. "Comparatively, it is a very intense physical and emotional reaction. I can only imagine that the sensation would be similar to that of someone who has an addiction. Right now, eating chocolate is very, _very,_ pleasurable…Oh, you want to observe my reaction."

.

"Bingo! Your smile is beautiful, but seeing that look of pleasure on your face is something else," said Booth. Lowering his voice a little he looked at the webcam directly. _"Particularly when I'm the one who puts it there."_

"And, according to my calculations, it would be approximately 105 days since you last put it there Booth" added Brennan with a sultry smile. "Although I recall that you did so repeatedly at the time."

"Yes I did, Temperance" replied Booth with a smug smile in return.

"Are you proposing that I consume this Hershey Bar to provide a surrogate for sexual pleasure?" She asked, holding up the candy bar and peeling back the packaging, looking directly into the lens of the camera with a dangerous expression on her face.

"Err, well, I wouldn't have put it that way, but I think about you, and that night, a lot..." stammered Booth.

"Then under the circumstances, I believe that this is completely acceptable" she concluded, snapping a piece of chocolate off and placing it close to her mouth. "Are you ready, Booth?"

.

"Fire at will, baby" he muttered, willing himself not to blink. He didn't want to miss a moment of this.

"I don't know what that means, but…" Brennan silenced herself by putting the chunk chocolate in her mouth. An action, which was followed by a hitching of her breath and a sub-vocal _'mmm'_ of satisfaction.

"You like that, huh?" asked Booth, his voice tinged with amusement as she nodded and leaned back on her chair and took a deep breath.

"Delicious!" she proclaimed as the chocolate melted enough for her to speak. "The taste, smell, and the warmth. It starts in my mouth and spreads out in tendrils along my nerve endings. It is not unlike the sensation of kissing you Booth, but not quite as arousing…" As Brennan savoured the taste her face took on a pensive expression. Booth smiled as her eyes lost their usual piercing focus and pleasure danced across her features.

"Now _that's_ what I'm talking about, Bones. That look. Right there."

"If I keep eating chocolate like this, I am going to get fat Booth. However, if we have time now, do you think I could have another piece?" she asked.

"Why not" he replied, and held up a familiar looking candy bar in his own hand. "I might even join in this time. It's an empathy thing…"

Brennan gave a dirty chuckle. "Oh-ho-ho! Seeley Booth, you are a bad, bad man."

"Only for you, Bones"

.


	10. Shy Boy

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 10 - Shy Boy**

**.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own BONES. This speculative work of fiction is purely for hiatus diversional purposes – consume as required until angst reduces.

**A/N: This chapter has been planned for a while – frustratingly, it could not be completed until a number of real-life commitments had been fulfilled. Thank you for your patience and the PM / Twitter requests for updates.**

* * *

Wednesday, September 1st 2010 – Ambon, Maluku Province, Indonesia

Temperance Brennan gave a start as the rapid Doppler pulse of baby Brennan jumped out from the speakers of the relatively modern ultrasound unit. The frantic tympany was punctuated by a couple of loud tinny clanks.

"Heart rate 135, and this baby with attitude is aiming to kick the ultrasound probe away" commented the sonographer, an American officer from the USNS Mercy, which was a Navy Hospital ship currently stationed in Ambon on a humanitarian mission.

Brennan gave a chuckle at the implied statement that the 18 week fetus was somehow giving the sonographer attitude, she found herself feeling at ease with the young female officer, who was trying hard not to be star struck by the VIP author on the exam table.

.

The eighteen week anatomical scan was fascinating to Brennan. Detailed measurements of the head and femur were taken and compared to growth charts and her own gestational dates in order to confirm her due date, and that the fetus was developing within normal limits. The process was both methodically and scientifically validated, putting the expectant genius further at ease. The resolution and depth of the ultrasound waves were adjusted to show an amazing amount of detail, including the hemispheres of the developing brain, the chest cavity, the diaphragm, heart chambers and even a tiny bladder. The fetal bones shown in the images were of particular interest to Brennan of course. Normally fetal bones in her work were a sad chapter in a tragic case, but not today.

.

"The feet have a similar tarsal and phalangeal profile to that of my partner" commented Brennan, as if it were the most natural observation in the world. The sonographer raised an eyebrow and covered her surprise by adding more transmission gel to Brennans' lower abdomen.

"You can tell that from these images?"

"Yes" replied Brennan. "I have examined x-ray images of his feet and the tarsal coalition is identical."

"I see," lied the sonographer politely. "Shall we see if we can establish the sex of your baby Dr. Brennan."

"That would be ideal, as I have no objection to discovering the sex. My partner would also like to tell his son whether he will have a brother or sister" replied Brennan with a smile.

.

The sonographer spent the next two or three minutes strategically placing globs of transmission gel and the ultrasound probe at three different points on Brennans' abdomen. Each time the image was being fine tuned to take a peek at the telltale genitalia; the precocious fetus would move and present a photo opportunity of something cute, like sucking on a thumb, or extending a hand in a wave. On the third failed attempt, baby Brennan ended up doing a comical face-palm on the screen. The sonographer made a frustrated noise under her breath.

"Is there a problem? Asked Brennan with a note of concern in her voice.

"No cause for concern Dr. Brennan. Your baby appears to avoiding my attempts to ascertain its sex by evasion of the ultrasound probe. Almost as if he or she is shy."

"Is that unusual?"

"Not at all Dr. Brennan" replied the sonographer. "But sometimes it is the other way around. When my sister had her anatomical scan, I went along to support her because her husband was deployed in Iraq at the time. My niece was hell-bent on doing an in-utero centrefold pose for the entire scan; getting the required measurements was quite challenging. We laughed a lot that day, every time she moved to point her butt at us for the camera, we were like _'Yes, you're a GIRL, we know that already'_ – the polar opposite of your prim and proper baby."

.

Brennan chuckled. "Even though it is nonsensical to attach behavioural traits to a fetus, I find this story quite amusing." The amusement that Brennan was experiencing was on multiple levels, as she considered Booths' prudish tendencies and her own history of deflecting her feelings. Not for the first time in recent weeks, she wondered who this child would favour in personality.

"Ah! That chuckle did the trick Dr. Brennan. Gotcha little man! You have a boy, a shy boy" said the sonographer as she tapped on the sequence of keys to save the images.

* * *

Brennan had returned to her accommodation and taken a shower to remove the gel residue from her skin. She rubbed lotion into her soon to be stretching skin and realised that she was exhausted. Having booked a call to The Jeffersonian with the hotel operator for just over an hours time, Brennan decided to nibble on a square of chocolate and take a nap.

The antiquated phone next to her rattled, rather than rang approximately 80 minutes later, waking her from a deep sleep. She answered in English, then spoke a few Indonesian phrases to the switchboard operator.

"Dr. Brennan?" echoed Cams' voice down the line.

"Yes. This is Dr. Brennan. How are you Dr. Saroyan?" replied Brennan.

"I think I speak for all of us at the Jeffersonian when I say that you are greatly missed. Please tell me that you are calling to advise me of your early return, because our replacement anthropologist is keen to return to Montreal."

"That is not the case Dr. Saroyan. I am actually calling to advise you that I will require an additional six weeks of leave upon my return to D.C." said Brennan.

"Oh, I see" said Cam in a dejected tone. "While I appreciate the advance notice Dr. Brennan, you have only been granted a twelve month leave of absence. May I ask the reason why this extra time is being requested."

"Yes. You may request my reason. In fact, I believe that my contract with the Jeffersonian stipulates that I must provide a reason Dr. Saroyan."

"…and the reason is, Dr Brennan?" prompted Cam in a voice that was laden with her familiar sarcasm, which completely bypassed Brennan in equally familiar terms.

"I would like to spend an additional six weeks at home with my son upon my return to the U.S."

"You've adopted an Indonesian boy Dr. Brennan? How very Angelina of you" blurted Cam in shock. She had not seen that one coming.

"No, Dr. Saroyan you have taken my comment out of context. I am due to give birth to my own child in February."

"You're _pregnant_?" squeaked Cam incredulously.

"Yes, Dr. Saroyan. Being pregnant is a pre-requisite state for giving birth" replied Brennan evenly.

"Wow!...I mean, congratulations!"

"Thank you" said Brennan.

Cam, as a medical doctor was doing the calculations around the blessed event in her head. "May I ask…"

Brennan interrupted Cam mid-query. "Booth is the father…and employing Angelas' colourful metaphor around the conception, we did _'the nasty'_ rather than our previous IVF plan."

"Excellent…urm, I mean, a little too much information there Dr. Brennan, but good to know…or not" Cam spiralled off into confusion and bootstrapped herself back into the conversation. "I will submit the paperwork with my supporting signature and forward it to you via e-mail."

"Thank you Dr. Saroyan. I will see you next year" said Brennan, who promptly hung up the call.

"You are welcome" said Cam to the dial tone. She had seriously not seen that one coming. At least she now knew why Max Keenan had been walking around with that shit-eating grin on his face for the past couple of weeks. Camille Saroyan needed a stiff drink. But first she would put in the paperwork for Dr. Brennan and compose a flame-mail to Seeley.

* * *

Sergeant Major Booth was conducting a sniper training session on target triangulation when the radio operator signalled a message had arrived from the Commanding Officer. Booth handed the session to his second in command and jogged over to the Comms tent where he was handed a message slip.

'_It's a boy.'_

Booth glanced at the radio operator, a guy who wouldn't look out of place on the pro-wrestling circuit, a guy who was grinning like a loon at him.

* * *

"_Hey Parker!"_

- "_Hi Dad! Are you training lots of soldiers?"_

"_Yes buddy, I am."_

- "_Cool. Have you found any more scorpions in your bed?"_

"_No I have not, thank goodness."_

- "_Pity. I won a Hershey Bar for best class news item for that story."_

"_Wow, really?"_

- "_Yup."_

"_But I've got some other news for you that you can take to class if you want to."_

- "_Really? Is it about catching terrorists, or saving people from being blown up?"_

"_No Parker. The news is about Dr. Bones."_

- "_Is she okay on Muckypoopy Island?"_

"_Yeah. She is fine, and she is going to be bringing a baby back home with her."_

- "_Wow! Like a Brangelina baby?"_

"_No! Where do you get stuff like that from?"_

- "_Geez Dad, we've got cable and I watch EW with Mom sometimes."_

"_Uh huh. Bones is having her own baby Parker, and I'm gonna be a Daddy to him too. So you'll have a brother to play with, just like I have your Uncle Jar-head for a brother."_

- "_Well, he's going to be too small to play football with us for a while Dad. But at least Dr. Bones finally got to sex you up."_

"_Parker!"_

- "_Geez Dad, I do health class at school. What did you want me to say? Coitus?"_

"_You've got a point there buddy…"_


	11. The Babymoon Conspiracy

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 11 – The Babymoon Conspiracy**

**.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own BONES. I would also like to disown my troublesome mandible.

* * *

Friday, September 3rd 2010 – Classified location, Afghanistan

.

Seeley Booth tilted his head and gave a half-wave, half-salute to Jared and Padme as they appeared on the computer screen.

"Bro! What did they do to your hair?" exclaimed Jared, wincing as he received a kick to his shins from Padme for his insolence.

"Great to see you too, Jared. Hey Padme! You're still putting up with this punk?" said Booth running a self-conscious hand where his thick locks used to reside, and over the contours of his skull that would make a phrenologist squee with delight.

.

"Hi Seeley" replied Padme around a very feminine laugh.

"Padme is still with me because I'm a _'love machine'_, isn't that right baby?" crowed Jared with a wide Booth-Lite grin.

"Great. Thanks. Like I needed _that_ information, or to be reminded what I'm missing while serving my country..." Booth grumbled good-naturedly. His brother was clearly still infatuated with Padme and the bashful duck of her head in response suggested the feeling was mutual. At least he was settling down, Pops could do without an ulcer brought on by Jared.

.

"Aww! C'mon Seeley, like you were chasing skirts in D.C.? More like mooning over a lady in a lab coat...how is Temperance anyhow? Have you heard from her in Indonesia?" asked Jared.

"Yeah. We talk online like this every week and e-mail, time permitting" replied Booth. "Actually, Bones is who I wanted to talk to you about. I need to arrange something and I need your help."

Padme sat forward seeing the expression on Booths' face. "Is everything alright Seeley?"

"It's okay Padme. I'm fine. She's fine. I just have to make some arrangements for my forthcoming Liberty. Fifteen days of leave, in about six weeks time. I want to visit Parker and I would like to see Bones too but there are issues..." said Booth.

Jared nodded his head. "There is no way you could go to Indonesia Bro. There are U.S. hospital ships in the Indonesian region, but only on humanitarian missions. Army brass are gonna knock that back." At Padme's puzzled expression, Jared explained. "76th Rangers do special ops with high security clearance. Additional travel restrictions are in place for Rangers on Active Duty."

"You've got it in one, Jared. I'm willing to travel to wherever I need to catch up for a few days, I've made arrangements with Rebecca to get Parker away for some time with me, but we can't go back to the U.S., I don't want Bones having to travel too far in the near future" said Booth.

"Temperance is a seasoned traveller, surely she can take a few extra days to make the trip back, with the restrictions on your travel surely she'll understand" said Jared.

"She's got restrictions of her own, I'd like to keep the flight and travel time to a minimum for her. Bones is pregnant Jar-head, eighteen weeks – it's a boy."

"How did that happen?" burst out Jared, as Padme gave a squeal of delight.

.

Booth had a cocky grin on his face at the stunned expression on his brother's face. "The usual way, lil' bro. You should Google that on your own time, huh? Turns out, you're not the only _'love machine'_ in the family."

"It's yours? Bro. You? Did '_the deed'_ with Dr. Temperance Brennan? _And_ knocked her up? Holy shit! I owe Camille five hundred bucks..." said Jared placing his head in his hands.

"Sucker! That's the way it played out Jar-head, but I'd appreciate it if you could be a little more respectful, okay?" replied Booth with a chuckle at Cams' side bet with Jared.

.

"Oh, congratulations! This is wonderful news Seeley. I am so happy for both of you" gushed Padme.

"See?" said Booth. "Take some lessons from your lady."

"Wow! Seriously Seeley, congratulations man! After you told us that you were heading your separate ways in May, I thought it was _never_ gonna happen between you too. You had that whole unrequited love thing down to an art form." Said Jared, grinning now, but still shaking his head in disbelief.

"_Unrequited love_, Jar-head? You didn't learn that stuff in military college..." scoffed Booth.

"I _have _been taking lessons from my lady, Seeley. She is a teacher. We've been reading some of the classics over summer..." said Jared.

"You mean books? Without pictures?" teased Booth.

.

Jared displayed his middle finger to the web cam in a brotherly retort. Padme smacked his hand away from the camera, holding onto his other hand tightly, she gave it a squeeze.

"You are a good student Jared" she said with a reassuring smile.

Jared donned his Booth-Lite charm smile and nuzzled in toward the neck of his fiancé. "And you, are an awesome teacher..."

Booth gave a Parker-esque groan of disgust. "Hey, hey! I didn't call you to watch you have a _'Hot for Teacher'_ moment. So cut it out, okay?"

The three of them shared a laugh. Padme, suddenly looking thoughtful, saved the day.

.

"Seeley? I think I know a place that you could go. I backpacked around Australia about five years ago, there was this one magical place that I've always wanted to go back to..."

"The place with the wild dolphins?" asked Jared.

"Dolphins? Bones _loves _dolphins!" chimed in Booth.

"Yes, I know," replied Padme. "We spoke about her Mothers' ring and her love of dolphins when we all had lunch at the Founding Fathers. The dolphins at Monkey Mia are particularly attentive to children, and pregnant women. You should look into it. It is only a few hours away from where Temperance is in Indonesia."

.

Booth was impressed. He had the beginnings of a plan. Swearing Jared and Padme to secrecy, he finished up his video call and composed an e-mail to his Parisian co-conspirator.

* * *

_Hi Ange,_

_I had a think about this Babymoon thing that you suggested, and had a chat with Jared and Padme earlier. Padme suggested this wild dolphin resort in Australia called Monkey Mia. It sounds perfect – the kind of place that you could get Bones to go to without even suspecting that I might turn up._

_I'll work on getting my travel plans authorised for the dates we mentioned. Rebecca is waiting to hear from you, she said to tell you that 10 days in Bali with Captain Fantastic sounds awesome. Parker is going to think that he is going with them._

_Tell Hodgins that he is the man. We couldn't pull this off without him, or you. I'm not sure how I'm ever going to repay you guys. If Bones ever agrees to the Godparent thing, you two are at the top of the list, okay?_

_Booth_

* * *

Thus, the Babymoon Conspiracy came to be.

* * *

**A/N: Monkey Mia is a real place. I've bookmarked it on my Twitter profile location (Skole_Bone), or you can Google it yourself...and 'squee' with delight!**


	12. Mojito Madness

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 12 - Mojito Madness**

**.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything associated with BONES. Not even a decent spoiler!

**A/N: Please excuse my poor French in this chapter. Je suis 'extremely rusty'. If any offended French speakers want to correct my faux pas, feel free to PM me & I will make corrections. Merci beaucoup to HannahTaylor1 for 'la Beta Francais' - if you haven't read her work yet, I seriously recommend that you do so! C'est magnifique!**

* * *

Friday September 3rd 2010, Montemartre, 18th arrondissement – Paris

Hurrying out to the terrace, juggling her smartphone and a freshly made pitcher of Mojito, Angela Montenegro-Hodgins grimaced at the unwelcome feeling of being put under pressure. After months away from the often frantic pace of work at The Jeffersonian Institute, living the life of an artist at leisure, she felt pulled between annoyance at competing demands for her time, and excitement at being knee-deep in something juicy again. She had received yet another e-mail from Booth, while she was pouring a generous measure of rum into the pitcher on her kitchen bench, which was littered with the accoutrements of Mojito-making, including lime carcasses and the remains of fresh mint. Seeley Booth had jumped into their conspiracy with both feet, and proven yet again that he was a man of action. Reading the message, she gave a little squee of delight at the development that the e-mail outlined.

It was literally only 30 minutes prior to the time that Brennan was going to call, and she had to do some serious consultation with the _'Gods of Google'_ so that she could sow the seeds of the _Babymoon Conspiracy_. On a recent weekend trip to San Tropez, noticing that she was one of very few women drinking alcohol, she had made a comment to Jack over dinner about the large number of pregnant women, and their significant others, strolling around the cafés and lounging around the pools in the resort. Jack had informed her that the resort offered _'Babymoon Packages' _apparently a very _de rigueur_ thing for upwardly mobile parents to be doing; the concept involved, sand, sun and a last chance at a little secluded loving for couples, before the whirlwind of advanced pregnancy and birth became reality. It was taking advantage of the honeymoon period prior to parenthood.

Angela had put two and two together, added a dollop of sexy fun times to her version of the concept, and hatched her plan to get Bren and Sergeant Major Studly some quality time together before baby Booth made an appearance. The master plan required the input of three stakeholders; Hodgins, who predictably capitulated to the idea immediately, his private jet and resources placed at her disposal, indulging his bride in anything; Booth, who would have to provide the motive, timing and venue; and Brennan, who would be largely unsuspecting, and required to eventually suspend her dislike of surprises under the conditions of this once in a lifetime scenario.

The Babymoon conspiracy was all about family, something that Bren had begun to attach an inordinate amount of importance to since departing the Jeffersonian. Angela had been privately delighted that the jagged social progress that her best friend had made in the past couple of years had become smoother and softer under the influence of a bout of hot lovin' from Booth, and the consequent impact of pregnancy hormones.

.

Angela poured her husband a tall glass of the Mojito cocktail. He was in low-riding cargo shorts and deliciously shirtless, working in the late afternoon heat on the cornucopia of growing things that he had cultivated on their garden terrace. He knew what she liked, and this was her preferred view of him when he was working in the garden. Jack Hodgins had employed his considerable knowledge to ensure that their love nest was cloaked in nature's most beautiful scents, night and day, the rooftop garden varied in its olfactory charm depending upon which plants and flowers were producing their perfume.

.

"Is it time to call Bren yet?" asked Hodgins, coming over to take the proffered glass from her hand, and planting a kiss on her proffered lips.

"Not yet…you're all sweaty!" Angela commented throwing a hand towel at him.

"Shall I go inside and _get cleaned up_?" asked Hodgins as he wiped the sweat from his face, with a quirk of his lips. Getting cleaned up was a code for sex.

Angela leaned in and kissed his cheek chastely as she snaked a hand around to grab his ass and squeezed. As she pulled away with a grin, Angela waved her smartphone in front of his face.

"As hot as you are right now my hunky garden slave, I've got work to do before I talk to Bren. Booth just e-mailed. He's got a key player in on the conspiracy, and it looks like we have a contender for the Babymoon holiday spot."

Hodgins wiped his hands on the towel and slung it around his neck. Hatching a conspiracy was almost as good as a little afternoon delight.

"Ooh! Do tell" crooned Hodgins in his _'this conspiracy is turning me on' _voice.

.

Angela Googled Monkey Mia and they clicked on the resort links. For the next ten minutes they scrolled through dozens of pages displaying white powdery beaches, natural unspoiled reefs, amazing aquatic wildlife, including a community of wild dolphins. The location was remote, private, and picturesque in its natural beauty. It was certainly wild and remote enough to appeal to Brennan as a place to take a short break and the dolphins would hopefully be the deal breaker.

"Wow Angela, we could hire a yacht and go too. You could paint…" began Hodgins.

"Some other time Sweetie, if we say we're going along, Bren will suspect. Besides, Booth has found another way around our problem. Just wait until she calls, you'll see" said Angela.

"You know, Booth is a lot smarter than people give him credit for" remarked Hodgins.

"I'll drink to that!" agreed Angela, clinking her Mojito glass against his.

Angela glanced at the laptop and noticed that the icon for Brennan indicated that she was online.

.

"Okay Hodgins. Get your game face on and be ready to play along. It's conspiracy time" said Angela as she sat down at the table to make the connection.

"Oh, love it when you get all conspiratorial, baby" murmured Hodgins, eliciting a saucy chuckle from his wife as the video connection was made.

Brennan appeared on the screen, she looked healthier and happier than her friends had seen her in, well..., ever.

"Hey Sweetie! You look really…content" said Angela in greeting.

"Hi Ange. Hi Hodgins. I am not sure what contentment looks like, but I am in good health" said Brennan with a smile for her friends.

"I've put together the preliminary video package from the scans that you sent to me, Bren. Wow, a little boy! Are you pleased?" gushed Angela.

Brennan looked a little perplexed at the question, but answered anyway. "Booth is actually responsible for determining the sex of this baby due to his contribution of the Y chromosome. However, the baby is healthy and developing appropriately, which I do find pleasing."

Hodgins gave a hearty chuckle at that response. The conversation was interrupted by a loud shout from across the street.

.

"Hé là Sexy. Ici! Placer ceci dans votre ceinture!"

"That, is Jack's fan club" said Angela with a smirk, by way of explanation to Brennan.

"So what is it that she wants Hodgins to put into the waistband of his pants?" asked Brennan, translating what she had heard.

Angela made a show of looking at what their neighbour was waving out of her window. "It looks like a twenty Euro note Sweetie. Jack, don't even acknowledge her until she waves a fifty at you" she quipped, which made Brennan laugh out loud.

"Do you see what our Parisian experience has reduced me to Dr. B.? I'm King of the Peep show" said Hodgins self-consciously hitching up his low riding cargo shorts.

Angela rolled her eyes and returned to the conversation with her friend.

.

"So are you okay to do some final footage for this video package?" asked Angela.

"Yes. Do you want to see my baby bump Hodgins?" said Brennan, already standing up and turning side on for her webcam without waiting for an answer.

Angela and Hodgins made all of the right noises as Brennan took delight in demonstration of her procreative party trick.

"I've made a cut down video for Parker, so all you need to do is record a message for him. Booth e-mailed me" said Angela.

"Oh. Did Booth say anything else? We won't be talking until tomorrow" asked Brennan.

"No, just that he had spoken to Parker and told him that he was going to be a big brother. Booth thought that a video message from you and some pictures would help him to adjust to the idea," said Angela, covering her white lie about the other things that Booth had told her.

.

Brennan simply nodded in agreement. "The organising committee of the Maluku Project have requested that all non-Indonesian personnel leave the project for a minimum of ten days within the next three months in order to facilitate our academic visa re-processing with the Indonesian Government. I was considering coming to Paris in six weeks time, but my colleague Dr. Haynes has invited me to accompany her to a remote resort in the North West of Australia, with her husband and their five children."

"That would be a lot closer Sweetie" said Angela in a benign tone, praying that Brennan had taken the bait. As the face of her friend took on an expression of excitement, Angela knew that Booth's call to Dr. Haynes had gained them another conspirator.

"The resort is in a World Heritage Listed area and has wild dolphins…it would be an excellent opportunity to visit while I am working in the region. I have been to Paris many times. I hope that you are not too disappointed Ange," said Brennan with a genuine tone of regret.

"The snorkelling would be outstanding there Dr. B" chimed in Hodgins.

"Getting up close and personal with wild dolphins would be fantastic Bren! Be sure to get plenty of photos and footage, imagine the care package that we could send to Booth for Thanksgiving…" added Angela in a flash of inspiration as she crossed her fingers behind her back.

"I hadn't considered that possibility Angela, but your suggestion is excellent. I will inform Dr. Haynes that I will accompany them to Monkey Mia" decided Brennan, who failed to notice the synchronised exhalation of breath on the Parisian end of the conversation.

.

The tension was broken by another call of _'Hé là'_ from across the street.

Hodgins groaned and refilled their Mojito glasses. Angela glanced at the window of the building across the street and gave a laugh, toasting her neighbour with her cocktail. The waving fifty Euro bill was replaced by a salute with a glass of red wine, accompanied by raucous cackling.

.

"Don't encourage her Ange!" protested Hodgins, tossing back his Mojito in mock frustration.

"Has your neighbour returned with a better offer?" asked Brennan with a grin.

"Yup, she's waving a fifty. Maybe you should go inside, and either put on your gold hotpants, or maybe go clean up instead Jack" said Angela.

Hodgins stomped off, wondering exactly when he had become so contented with being whipped.

"Why would Hodgins wear gold hotpants?" asked Brennan.

"Don't worry Sweetie, it's a code" replied Angela. "Now you really need to record these messages with me, so I can finish up these videos for Booth and Parker. So how is your chocolate addiction Bren?"

"It is not an addiction, it is a craving" stated Brennan decisively. "Interestingly, I have discovered that it is possible for chocolate consumption to provide a facsimile for sexual pleasure."

"Now this, I've got to hear" said Angela, as her fingers flew across the keyboard preparing to record the messages.

.

Only Booth and Brennan could be separated by 10,000 miles and get it on over a bar of chocolate.


	13. What's in a Nickname?

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 13 - What's in a nickname?**

**.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own BONES. This benign work of fiction is intended for entertainment purposes only.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for staying with me on this story. The last couple of weeks of RL have been challenging. For those of you wondering about and waiting for the Monkey Mia reunion – it is on the way, very soon, but there are a couple of lead in chapters to round out the Babymoon Conspiracy that are almost complete and include some pivotal moments. If I jump ahead in time to Monkey Mia, this thing is going to lose it's flow. You're welcome to review and convince me otherwise, but it would mean a monster Chapter 14 and a small delay. I will be posting Monkey Mia reunion Tweet-peeks (Skole_Bone) from July 1****st****.**

* * *

_Saturday, September 4__th__ 2010, Undisclosed location - Afghanistan_

Seeley Booth sat in the mess area waiting. Usually, he didn't have to wait for access to a communication terminal this early on a Saturday morning, when most of America was asleep, but for some reason there were a lot of enlisted guys with kids due to be born any day. A good number of the guys stationed here had been on liberty between Thanksgiving and Christmas last year, clearly quite a few babies had been made. There were as many baby photos as pin-ups decorating bunk areas and lockers these days. Even though a lot of the new Dads were much younger than Booth was, they made sure that 'Sarge' was part of the baby-daddy camaraderie which provided a spark of hope in this otherwise desolate place.

Consequently, access slots for calls home were at a premium right now. Booth drummed up a storm on the worn table in front of him, ceasing only when he heard the scrape of the chair in the Comms section which indicated that he was up next. He swirled the remains of the cup of the GI swill that passed for coffee in these parts, shrugged and tossed it back in one brave gulp. Beggars couldn't be choosers, particularly the enlisted ones. He have a nod to the Corporal who had just finished his call, entered the area and sat on the still-warm chair to log on to the computer.

* * *

"Hey Bones. What's up?" said Booth by way of greeting as their video call connection was initiated. Her image greeted him with a grimace instead of the usual bright smile that Brennan had waiting for him each week. Frankly, she looked a little ticked off.

"Hi Booth. Did you get the video package from Angela?" asked Brennan, in a tone which was a little too business-like for his comfort.

"Yes, I did. I got the video. I got your message radioed through from Ambon too. But right now, I'm worried about why you look like you want to shoot something. Care to share with me, Temperance?" said Booth.

"We aren't permitted to carry arms here Booth, it contravenes the conditions of our visa" replied Brennan reflexively.

"So you can use a poisoned blow-dart, or open a can of ninja whoop-ass using your martial arts training…whatever, Bones" sniped Booth in frustration to get her attention, and then made another attempt to connect. "Look, Temperance. This is me you're talking to…the guy who loves you, the guy you can't resist remember? The guy who's responsible for that little guy growing inside of you. It's still okay to start a conversation by telling me that something is pissing you off…it kinda reminds me of the good old days, working on cases."

.

Brennan had found her hand almost involuntarily moving to touch her increasingly protruding abdomen; she glanced down at her hand as she listened to Booths' words. He was being emotionally demonstrative as usual, making the kind of connection that she still found awkward because it didn't have the linear simplicity of logic, or the rigorous certainty of rationality. In a flash of realisation, she perceived that Booth was indicating that he didn't want her to filter her emotions with him, didn't want or need her to change. Could it be possible that he really loved her as she was, not for what she hoped she could become someday with a more open heart?

"Do you really mean that?" she asked, as a tear dripped onto the hand resting on her baby bump. It was still difficult for Brennan to become accustomed to the sudden onset of tears at all manner of things, regardless of the objective significance of the triggering event. Just this morning she had observed a small wild primate with a tiny baby clutched to its chest, pilfering from a bowl of fruit in the mess area. She had found herself close to tears just at the thought of shooing them away.

Booth shifted uncomfortably, he hadn't intended to make her cry. "Not the bit about the poison darts, or ninja moves…but yeah, everything else."

Brennan swiped at her face before looking up at the screen to find the patented Seeley Booth charm smile awaiting her. She shook her head as she felt the blossoming warmth spreading out from behind her sternum in response, apparently no longer immune to that smile.

.

"You can still read my mood, over thousands of miles? Am I really that transparent? She asked.

"Maybe I'm just that good." He replied. "So tell me what's bugging you, huh?"

She gave a wry chuckle at his irrepressible cocky streak. "I find myself frustrated by a combination of issues today, Booth. Our supplies arrived this morning with several items missing from the inventory. When I investigated, the fault was my own. I made an error in the documentation. I was responsible" said Brennan, exasperated by the effect of hormones on her traditionally firm grip on being consistently methodical and rational. In recent weeks, the existing handholds permitting this grip had softened in much the same way as her pelvic ligaments were doing.

Booth interrupted her. "Don't you think you're being a little hard on yourself, Bones? You're in the Indonesian jungle working on a high profile project, speaking a bunch of different languages, keeping a handle on all the developments, and just to add an extra degree of difficulty, you are having my baby too."

She raised an eyebrow at his transparent attempt to goad a reaction from her, and suppressed a smirk as she decided to return the banter that he had served up. "I find your attempt to claim alpha male ownership over this child endearing. Yet, I am willing to concede that this is _our_ child, even though he is clearly in my possession for the next few months."

"Do y'know how much I miss your Anthropological smack-downs?" He asked with a grin at her poorly disguised amusement. "So humour me here Bones, let me know what's bugging your genius brain. Trust me, you'll feel better."

.

"I am unconvinced that it will help, Booth, but if you insist, very well. Generally, I find the hormonal effects of pregnancy are quite disconcerting; It is increasingly difficult to focus on tasks for long periods of time, which annoys me. Dr. Haynes calls it '_pregnancy brain'_ and tells me it is normal. Despite numerous Google references to the phenomenon, evidence in academic literature is tenuous at best."

She paused, as she felt some of her tension dissipating and realised that her cocky partner was right. "Then there are the issues that I cannot share with my colleagues here, although I am comfortable sharing this with you. Between the vivid dreams and my chocolate obsession, I feel like a walking biological urge, Booth."

"Hey, I told you that you were going to be less about brains for a while" said Booth.

"I know. But I was completely unprepared for the irrationality of it all. I can use strategies like keeping schedules to keep my work on track, but I have no control over my dreams, or these unpredictable cravings."

"So what do you dream about, out there in the jungle?" asked Booth attempting to keep the conversation light.

Brennan looked at the webcam and tilted her head slightly, giving a coy smile. "There is a man in my dreams" she teased.

"Oh yeah?" asked Booth in mock affront.

"Oh yeah," echoed Brennan in a husky tone that made parts of Booth regret asking, and other parts of him unaccountably happy. "The dreams are so vivid, on some mornings that I feel like you spent the night in my bed."

"Wait. You mean that dream guy is me?"

"Booth!" she laughed. "I am trying to tell you about my dream."

"Yeah, sounds like a very _intimate_ dream from where I'm sitting. Wanna give me a hint about what we get up to Bones?" he asked leaning in toward his webcam, teasing her right back.

"A hint?...how about…page 187 of my most recent book. Is that helpful?" asked Brennan grinning as she saw Booth squeezing his eyes shut as the innuendo hit him full force.

"Cutting right to the good stuff there, Bones. Sheesh! Give a guy a little warning…" he said making a pantomime of waving one side of his open jacket to fan himself at the screen.

"Too explicit? Too stimulating?" she queried.

"Temperance…I'm gonna go straight to Hell if you keep this up!"

.

She took a calming breath as she realised that Booth wasn't the only one getting aroused by the conversation. The hormones were playing havoc with her emotions as it was at the moment, without subjecting herself to frustrated unfulfillment. They looked at one another for a few moments, realising the futility of 'going there', giving themselves a brief hiatus to compose their thoughts within a less carnal zone.

Brennan recovered her equilibrium first and resolved to gave a little something of herself; letting him know that her dreams were not just about the sex.

"Each morning, I dream that you climb into my bed, Booth. You curl your body up behind me and run your hands over my abdomen until I awaken. When I wake up, your hands are no longer there. You are not here. I miss you most when I wake up."

Booth nodded his head in acknowledgement. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry that I can't be there in the flesh for you. Angela was right when she said that we really pick our moments, Bones."

"At least I have my dreams to comfort me," mused Brennan in an uncharacteristic commentary from the heart. "How do you cope?"

Booth considered his answer for a moment, and prepared himself to throw in a white lie to avoid blowing the cover on the babymoon conspiracy. "I think about you finally getting to be a Mom. I look forward to eventually meeting our baby son and introducing him to his big brother. Most of all, I'm counting down the days to seeing you again, on The Mall, at our coffee cart. Honest truth, Bones, on some days it's not enough and it gets me down, but I'm a big boy, I can cope."

.

At the mention of the big brother to be, Brennan experienced a trigger to her faulty memory. "Did Parker enjoy his video, Booth?"

Booth chuckled. "Oh yeah. We had a brief chat last night. Parks was buzzing with excitement, he couldn't get over how much his little bro' was jumping around, said he was like this baby kangaroo that he saw on a zoo field trip last week."

"I am not a marsupial, Booth, and a baby kangaroo is referred to as a Joey" she said with a smile.

"Well, we don't get the Animal Channel in Afghanistan, Bones, so you'll have to excuse my ignorance. I have to agree with Parker though, the little guy sure was showing off his dance moves."

"According to the sonographer, he was trying to avoid presenting his genitals for the purpose of divulging his gender at the time" she recalled.

"That's pretty funny when you think about it, Bones" he said with a chuckle. "Hey, maybe we should nickname him 'Joey' until we settle on a proper name."

"I hadn't really thought about it, Booth. But for some reason, the idea appeals to me, particularly in light of your fondness for nicknames. It doesn't mean that I have a pouch though…" she retorted.

"Ha! Joey's Mommy just made a joke" crowed Booth.

For some reason, being referred to as 'Joey's Mommy' kept a smile on the face of Temperance Brennan, long after the conclusion of their video call, for the remainder of the day in fact.


	14. The Quickening

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 14 – The Quickening**

**.**

**Disclaimer: **BONES: I do not own it.

**A/N: Quickening is an ancient term used to describe**** reaching the stage of pregnancy at which the child shows signs of life (Oxford English Dictionary). Some of my PM buddies know that this chapter has been planned for a while & I am posting it with a little trepidation, because I am not sure how Brennan actually would react in this scenario…hopefully, it won't be too OOC *crosses fingers***

* * *

_Friday, September 17__th__ 2010 – Maluku Project, Indonesia_

Following half a morning of physical exertion, Brennan picked her way between the marker flags and made her way out of the dig zone, carrying a plastic tub containing more precious bones and bone fragments which would become the focus of her afternoon's work. Another small anthropological treasure trove had been unearthed on the previous day, and she had relished the opportunity to get her hands dirty. Her aching hips and lower back disagreed vehemently, but a shower and brief rest would resolve this issue. Placing her tools into their correct baskets on the equipment table, she shifted the tub under her arm, so that it rested on her hip, and headed down to the 'building' that contained the lab for this project.

An enthusiastic young post-graduate student trotted up to her proffering a bottle of water and offering to take the tub of bones, which she agreed to with a nod and a few words of thanks. Brennan suspected that Dr. Haynes had a secret roster of people allocated to keep an eye out for her welfare; actually, it wasn't quite that formal an arrangement, but those working on the project admired her commitment to the project and had formed an unobtrusive support network, much like that of the Jeffersonian Institution. The older, worldlier, anthropologist had become a mother-figure of sorts to her in recent weeks, which Brennan found some comfort in. She could be herself around Eileen Haynes without becoming subject to derision or judgement, Brennan mused thatBooth would get on well with this woman; and unbeknownst to her, she was absolutely correct in this assessment.

.

Kicking her boots against the hardwood stumps forming the foundation of her accommodation to dislodge clods of earth stuck to their soles, Brennan went through the motions of removing her footwear on autopilot, prior to entering her own private piece of Maluku. The Australians called these temporary buildings 'dongas'; constructed from a fully relocatable kit, providing shelter that was just about adequate and a small measure of relief from the ever present heat and humidity. Everyone had a small fan of some description to provide some airflow and aid sleep through the high overnight temperatures. There were a couple of air conditioned areas on the campsite, but they pulled a prohibitive amount of power from their already burdened generator, so the A/C was rarely switched on.

Brennan looked around the 'donga' using her anthropologically trained eyes. In Indonesia, she had inadvertently granted her burgeoning open heart a space for private outlet while she was away from home. This place was the polar opposite of what she called home in D.C. Her apartment was airy and spacious; this place was cramped and stifling. Where her home was tastefully appointed with culturally significant pieces, demonstrating her love of the world of anthropology; this place formed an anthropological testament to all that she loved and missed from home, decorated with photos from Booth, grainy ultrasound stills, postcards and happy snaps from Jack and Angela, and her most recent acquisition, an artistic interpretation of a highly anticipated baby brother by a creative older sibling. What the drawing lacked in technical and factual accuracy, was balanced by the simple symbols of happiness and love that Parker had depicted. Brennan gave a wry chuckle; she sincerely hoped that her belly would never get that big; she would become bed-bound for sure.

Gathering a change of clothing and her toiletries, she could still not escape the gestures of care from those that she had left behind for a year. Cam had sent a supply of the organic hair and body care products from the exclusive store that they both frequented in D.C. Angela had provided a much needed wardrobe update, selecting a couple of dozen items of clothing that combined style and practicality for a woman with an ever-increasing girth. Brennan slipped on a pair of flat sandals and headed off to the showers to appease her aching lower back.

.

Standing under the blessed jet of hot water in the cubicle that provided visual privacy, but still let in the sounds and smells of the jungle, Brennan gave a sigh of relief as the heat soaked into her complaining muscle groups. Feeling a fluttering sensation just under her belly button, she gave a start, thinking that one of those pesky flying giant cockroaches was paying an unwelcome visit to her shower stall. Preparing to brush whatever it was onto the floor, she glanced down…and saw nothing there. Continuing to look down, the sensation happened again, slightly to the left this time. It felt a little like the buzz of her mobile phone in her lab coat pocket when she received a text message. Obviously, this was not the case in this scenario, as she was stark naked in the shower; but there were still no signs of an insect invader in her vicinity, effectively debunking the cockroach theory. Ever the rational individual, Brennan surmised that she was simply hungry, and what she had felt was peristaltic in nature. She wondered perversely if this was how Booths' gut spoke to him. Rinsing the conditioner out of her hair, it never occurred to her to consider an alternate hypothesis.

.

Exiting the ablution block, with the humidity instantly triggering the almost ever present sheen of perspiration that everyone wore, she trudged up towards the mess area to get some lunch. Perhaps with a little chocolate for a treat (who was she kidding?). Then it was time for her scheduled rest. After an hour of rest, Brennan looked forward to a session in the lab, the bones that she had unearthed this morning required closer examination and processing.

Lunch was traditional Indonesian fare today, cooked up by a gourmand English academic on the project, who had spent the best part of the past twenty years exploring the gastronomic and cultural delights of South East Asia. Brennan grabbed a bowl of noodles with vegetables in some sort of satay concoction. It smelled amazingly good, and her belly fluttered again in response to her anticipation, as she took it to a table to devour. The bottom of the bowl was visible within a couple of minutes, as she attacked the meal with gusto reminiscent of the father of her child. Deciding against a second helping, Brennan washed her bowl and utensils, and then stopped by to compliment the cook on her way out of the mess area.

.

Five minutes later, lying in a post-prandial drowsiness on her bed, with her small fan providing a sluggish quality to the humid airflow in the darkened room, the fluttering began again, then paused, and then started again. But this time, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Pulling up her T shirt and placing both hands over the bare skin of her lower abdomen, she splayed her fingers wide, pausing to establish if she could feel the movement. When the next short series of flutters occurred, her hands felt nothing, probably because it was a little too early in the pregnancy yet. But Brennan had enough evidence to support her conclusion. The Quickening had occurred and she had experienced it. This was yet more evidence of what it meant to be human, and uncharacteristically, she wanted to share it.

A wave of fatigue washed over her as she took a calming breath, there was a powerful undertow of private joy. Brennan turned onto her side and tried to settle her now racing mind, she would have to e-mail Booth this afternoon. She gently patted the point that had begun fluttering following her change in position.

"Now that you have my attention, 'Joey'. Would you mind settling down so that I can take a nap please?" asked Brennan employing the same tone that she used to settle Booths' tireless entreaties to try his pie at the Royal Diner.

Chuckling to herself, and at herself, she closed her eyes.

* * *

**A/N 2: Next chapter is the first of the Babymoon Monkey Mia arc. It will be up for the 4th of July (Yes, I know all the Americans will be celebrating - the rest of us will have to enjoy the update!). Thanks to everyone who is reading & reviewing, please let me know if I dropped the ball on this chapter...**


	15. There's a Babymoon on the Rise

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 15 – There's a Babymoon on the Rise**

**.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own BONES. This is only a 2010 hiatus project (mea culpa).

**A/N: Following a great deal of planning and contemplation, I present you with the first chapter of what has become 'The Babymoon Arc'. Thanks to Stephaniew & HannahTaylor1 for convincing me that I am not insane.**

* * *

Having already arrived two hours later than scheduled, Sergeant Major Seeley Booth finally cleared customs at the Ramstein Air Base; he grabbed his duffel and double-timed it toward the exit concourse. Someone was supposed to be meeting him in the arrivals hall, and he hoped that they hadn't abandoned him. He needed to make the shuttle to Frankfurt and was cutting it fine. Rebecca was taking a commercial flight to Bali for her holiday with Captain Fantastic, and she had a diminishing window of time to check in, so he needed to take custody of Parker within the next two hours.

.

The automatic doors to the arrivals hall slid aside smoothly with silent German efficiency, letting the unfamiliar sounds and sights of mass humanity through. Booth strode through into the hall, filtering out the noise, obtaining his bearings and surveying the array of handheld signs in the waiting crowd. He spotted his name, block-printed on a small whiteboard and headed over to make contact. Every step he took was one step closer to Parker, and eventually to Bones.

The shuttle driver was a stout German man, who spoke limited, clipped English, and reeked of discretion and competence. Taking an escalator down to the road level, Booth followed his guide out to the ranks of waiting vehicles. Instead of the expected white twelve-seater mini-bus, a black stretch Mercedes awaited him. Booth raised his eyebrows at this development, being treated as an entitled individual was not something that he particularly enjoyed; he really was quite content within his hoi polloi comfort zone. Booth didn't need his FBI training to identify the hallmark M.O. of this extravagant gesture, belonging to a certain artist of his acquaintance.

.

Inside the vehicle, Booth relaxed, taking a catnap on the comfortable bench seat of the limousine. It was a big improvement on the barely padded seating of the military transport that he had flown in on. Having Captain Kangaroo at the controls of the jet had not improved the in-flight ambience either; the guy had clearly been on a personal mission to hit every pocket of turbulence between Afghanistan and Germany. The GI's on the flight had been collectively debating whether to kiss the tarmac, or kick the pilot's ass on arrival, during their descent into Ramstein – instead they had settled on an off-key rendition of the 'Hallelujah' chorus from the Messiah as they touched down on the runway. Had he been able to hear this bastardised rendition, Handel would be spinning in his grave.

.

A polite 'Herr Booth?' from his unobtrusive guide signalled the end of their 125 kilometre trip, as they pulled into the departures area at Frankfurt airport. Booth sat up and rubbed his hands together in anticipation, before grabbing his duffel as the rear door of the vehicle opened. His guide indicated that he be would escorting Booth to the rendezvous point and departure gate. Glancing at his watch and mentally reviewing the timeline of the travel itinerary that he had committed to memory, Booth estimated that there were still 90 minutes until Rebecca's flight closed; even she couldn't complain about that under the circumstances. Half-way across the floor of the concourse, Booth caught a flash of movement to his right and instinctively braced for impact as Parker Booth launched into a greeting tackle that ten-year old boys were known to favour.

"Dad!" yelled the limpet formerly known as Parker Booth, who was now attached to his fathers' combat fatigues with a surprisingly strong grip.

Booth dropped his duffel and swung his kid into a bear hug, with a laugh.

"Did you have to go running off like that Parker?" chastised Rebecca, as she arrived with Parker's bags in tow. The German guide politely introduced himself to the blonde woman, who accessorised her couture outfit with a pout of displeasure that would put most three-year olds to shame. Rebecca grudgingly permitted the guide to take the baggage for Parker along to the VIP check-in area.

.

"Hi, Becca! You look great. I missed you guys" said Booth, giving Parker another squeeze.

"Don't try to placate me with that bullshit, Seeley Booth. I should have been in the complimentary Day Spa of the First Class lounge an hour ago. You're late!" she whinged. Booth recognised her mood, inwardly sighed and prepared to deal with it head on.

"Hey, sorry if the classified delays affecting U.S Army operations messed with your beauty regimen. I'll be sure to lodge a complaint with the Secretary of Defence on your behalf," sniped Booth. "Are all Parker's papers in order?"

"Yes. Legals, passport, visas, and vaccination certificates; all in here" replied Rebecca, presenting a ziplock document folder to Booth. "Parker? Time to say goodbye, honey. You and your father need to get to the other side of the terminal to get to your flight."

.

Booth poked Parker in the ribs and used his reflex squirm as leverage to break the bear hug, and lowered the boy to the floor. Parker wrapped his arms around his Mom's waist and gave her a hug.

"I'll miss you Mommy. I'll say hi to the dolphins, and to Dr. Bones, and the kangaroos, and the snakes, and the poisonous spiders... Dad? Are there scorpions on this Monkey Island? asked Parker, demonstrating his early genetically inherited obtuse talent for malapropism.

"Not sure, buddy. We'll ask when we get there, okay?" replied Booth with a grin.

"Cool" said Parker, squirming some more as Rebecca tried to give him a kiss.

"I take it that Parker took the change of plans okay? Booth asked Rebecca.

"No problems at all, Seeley. My only regret is that I told him too early in the flight. Parker has been talking non-stop, ever since. Eight long hours of 'Dad', 'Dr. Bones', 'dolphins', and all the rest of it," she replied. Parker had believed that he was going to Bali with his Mom for his ten day vacation. In the Babymoon conspiracy plans, Rebecca had been charged with letting the proverbial cat out of the bag about the Monkey Mia plan, and her son had been bouncing off the walls with excitement ever since.

"The kid is just excited, Rebecca. This is a big deal, y'know?" said Booth, trying to keep a lid on his patience.

"Okay, okay, Seeley! I'm sorry. I'm just tired and a bit stressed out. Hopefully, we can catch up in a more relaxed situation in a couple of weeks, when we all get back here and have taken a decent break" she conceded.

"Right then, we'd better get a move on buddy. Chop, chop! We've got a plane to catch" said Booth to Parker.

Parker put his hand up for a high five, which Booth returned. "Bye Mommy. See you soon!" said Parker grabbing his father's hand, and giving a cheeky grin he added "C'mon Dad! Chop, chop."

* * *

Half a dozen hours later, Booth and Parker were well on their way. Booth had taken the opportunity to freshen up and get changed onboard the Cantilever Group's Executive jet. Returning from the bathroom he found Parker passed out, sprawled across the leather recliner seat in the main cabin. Booth picked up the sleeping boy and carried him into the small bedroom section, placing Parker on the bed, then climbing onto the mattress beside him to try to get a few hours of rest before their descent into Singapore for refuelling. Ruffling the unruly curls on the head of his deceptively peaceful-looking son in repose, Booth reflected that Parker was a great kid, and he was going to be a great big brother. Booth felt a jolt of paternal pride added to the floating, cold-burning, knot of anticipation which was lodged under his diaphragm; it was not going to go away until he laid eyes on Bones in the flesh. The countdown to the reunion with Bones was down to mere hours now.

* * *

Brennan looked and felt like a million bucks as she boarded the midday flight to Monkey Mia with Dr. Eileen Haynes and her three eldest children. Eileen's husband would be arriving with their two youngest on the following day once they had wrapped up their respective work and school commitments. Dr. Phil Haynes had instructed Brennan to arrive two days earlier so that he could run a glucose tolerance test, give her a complete physical assessment, and conduct some higher resolution ultrasounds for his records, promising to bring some 3D reconstructed images of her baby up to Monkey Mia with him. She had passed all her tests with flying colours, even her iron levels were back within the low-normal range again. Failure was not an option when it came to Temperance Brennan.

Eileen and Phil's two eldest daughters were university students in their early twenties, so similar in appearance that they could have been twins; they were like a Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb version of Angela Montenegro, dragging the bemused Anthropologist around the swanky boutiques of the western suburbs of Perth, and taking her to a Day Spa for hours of pampering. Brennan had even had her hair styled by _the_ hair guru to the stars in this part of the world. Of course, he was a 'huge' fan of her books, and when he wasn't lamenting over the abused and neglected state of her 'gorgeous' auburn locks, he gushed about the steam between Kathy and Andy in her novels. Brennan didn't have to force a polite smile, because the hairdresser triggered pleasant memories of Booth (the original and best), and Page 187.

The flight to Monkey Mia was a little over three hours on the small jet prop aircraft, including a stop in Kalbarri. Brennan had been seated on the left side of the aircraft, affording her a continuous aerial vista of the West Australian coastline which kissed the bright blue of the Indian Ocean with a twisting ribbon of white sand. The population of this region was sparse and dotted the coastline, connected to the inland by arrow straight umber lines, which were roads cut through the bush and scrub. They arrived in the late afternoon at the grandly named Francois Pirone Aerodrome, which was simply a well maintained airstrip with a couple of service buildings. The passengers disembarked with a surge of excited chatter, everyone was hoping to catch a glimpse of the famed Monkey Mia dolphins before suppertime.

* * *

Eileen had booked out the beachside villas at the resort to accommodate her brood and guests, which included a couple of extra friends that would be flying in with Phil and their youngest kids from Perth on the following day. Monkey Mia was miles from anywhere, yet the accommodation was spotless and tasteful without being pretentious. Brennan had her own villa at the end of the beachside row, next to an open garden area. Eileen's youngest daughter, Ella, was fifteen and a little shy, but she made polite conversation as she helped Brennan bring her bags inside. Ella wanted to follow in her father's footsteps and become an obstetrician, she was clearly clinically fascinated with Brennan in her current condition at 23 weeks gestation and had engaged in a remarkably mature and objective conversation about pregnancy on the flight from Perth, while her two older siblings chattered away about fashion and boys in the background.

.

Ella placed the bags on a rack next to the bed and said she was going to get changed into her beach gear in readiness for the appearance of the wild dolphin pod under the watchful eye of the ranger supervising their interactions with human visitors. She asked if Brennan would be coming along to the session.

"Absolutely" replied Brennan.

"Umm, okay. I suppose that I'll see you out there then" replied Ella, her gaze flicking to Brennan's belly for the fifth time in as many minutes.

Brennan noted the observation and made a suggestion. "Ella? Given your keen developing interest in obstetrics, I would be happy to discuss the anthropological and cultural mores relating to pregnancy during our stay. If it contributes to your enrichment, I am even open to a display of fetal movement. Joey has recently started to react to the presence of a warm hand on my abdomen, and the movements are sometimes able to be felt externally. If your hands are warm, would you like to try? I cannot guarantee that he will cooperate though."

The face of the teenager lit up with excitement. "Wow, really? Thank you, Dr. Brennan. Dad says that most pregnant women don't appreciate people trying to paw at their bellies, and that I should never ask. I always thought that I'd have to wait for my older sisters to have kids before I got the chance. Although I don't think that the world is ready for those two to reproduce any time soon."

Brennan gave a chuckle. "That is excellent advice from your father, Ella. However, you will find that I am not like most women in this respect, particularly in the name of scientific discovery."

Ella gave a giggle and said "You sound just like my Mum."

Brennan yanked up her shirt, exposing the top of her baby bump and pointed to a spot. "He has been kicking me here for approximately the last minute, so place your hand flat against my abdomen and wait to see if he responds."

"This is awesome. Thank you" Ella said as she followed the instructions. After twenty seconds of silent waiting, Ella was rewarded with a kick. She recoiled in surprise and removed her hand, looking up at Brennan with a smile, which was returned. "I've got to tell Mum about this. She is _not _going to believe me. Thanks again!" Ella said giving Brennan an impulsive hug that she was too surprised to return, before running out to track her mother down.

* * *

Parker Booth spent the majority of the flight from Singapore to Perth wide awake, despite it being the middle of the night, local time. It was day time in D.C., so he didn't appreciate the need to rest, despite the advice from his father about jet lag and time changes. They touched down at 06:30 in Perth. Booth steered his excitable son through the airport terminal and customs hall, where their passports were processed and stamped, and their baggage was already stacked on a trolley for them, watched over by a staff member allocated to cater for VIP arrivals. Dr. Phil Haynes was waiting for them in the arrivals area, and had two boys slightly older than Parker waiting with him. With formal introductions and handshakes out of the way, the five of them transferred to the Domestic Terminal and checked-in for a direct flight to Monkey Mia. In a little over three hours Booth would be springing his surprise on Brennan. He knew that she didn't like surprises, and prayed that she would refrain from kicking his ass over it.

* * *

At just after midday, the five of them were in the minivan on the bumpy five kilometre stretch of road, headed to the Monkey Mia Resort. Parker had spent the past three hours engaged in a raucous session of jokes, imitating Aussie and American accents (badly), games and hysterical one-upmanship with Eileen and Phil's two sons. The boys were all going to be bunked together in a villa, Booth privately feared for the safety of the security deposit. Now, Parker was so tired that Booth had to literally frogmarch the semi-comatose kid off the plane into the waiting vehicle, where he promptly fell into the deep slumber of the profoundly jet-lagged. He had to carry Parker to the chalet, where Eileen Haynes directed Booth to a waiting bedroom. Parker had finally run out of steam. Booth decided to let the jet-lagged kid sleep; his reunion could wait.

Booths' could not.

Booth gave a slightly bemused grin as he came out into the main living area of the villa and Phil Haynes made the formal introduction of Booth to his formidable wife Eileen. Despite her formidable reputation in the field of Anthropology, Eileen had no qualms about pulling Booth into a warm hug of welcome.

"Does she suspect anything?" asked Booth.

"No way! Temperance is completely oblivious. She is taking a nap right now, we deliberately planned a busy morning away from the resort in case you got here early, but you should go next door and wake her" suggested Eileen.

Booth glanced back at the room where Parker was sleeping.

"Go on!" said Eileen with a laugh as she pushed him toward the door playfully. "If she hurts you, Phil is a doctor, he can patch you up."

It was Phil's turn to laugh. "Hey! As a rule, I don't deal with anybody without lady bits, so just be careful Booth."

* * *

Seeley Booth shook his head and made his way to the villa next door, which was quiet. He opened the sliding door carefully, giving a silent prayer of thanks that the thing glided quietly in its tracks. Entering the smaller villa allocated to Brennan, he gave his eyes a moment to adjust to the lower light and spied his target twelve feet away at ten o'clock. She was on her side, asleep on top of the bed wearing a matching halter top bikini and a sarong which was tangled around her legs. The knot of anticipation dissolved, becoming a warm and passionate resolve to finally make this reunion happen for real. Booth kicked off his shoes in silence, making his way across the floor and through the doorway into the bedroom.

Reaching the bed, he stood frozen for a few moments, his eyes feasting on the sight of the one incredibly beautiful, complex and unique person, who he loved beyond reason. Recalling their conversation about her regular vivid dreams of his presence in her bed, and awakening without him; Booth decided to make this particular dream come true as he carefully slipped on to the bed facing her back. Her hair tickled at this face, it smelled gorgeous, it felt so soft, unlike his own coarse hair. Taking a breath and exhaling half of it, sniper-style, he extended his steady hand to make contact with the miracle of life.

His warm hand rested on her abdomen and as he moved his hand over the evidence of their child in the way she had described to him, he spoke to her in a low voice.

"Temperance, wake up. Your dream has arrived."

Her body tensed slightly as her brain leapt into full wakefulness and her hand flew to cover his and she rolled herself back against Booths' body.

"Words fail me. How incredible!" she said, stunned beyond even the bounds of her own massive capacity to process information.

"You could start with 'Hi'" suggested Booth.

Turning over to face him, Brennan hooked a leg behind his knee to draw him closer and ran a hand down the side of his face with her eyes half closed, running a thumb over his lips in a kind of tactile facial recognition sequence. The hand moved to the back of Booth's neck to pull his face closer to hers. She opened her eyes fully to look into his. When she spoke, her lips brushed against his.

"Hi."

At this point, words also failed Booth. So they kept their communication non-verbal for a while.


	16. Nothing happens unless

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 16 - Nothing happens unless...**

**Disclaimer: **I categorically deny ownership or claim over any part of the concept of BONES – this fiction is direct from my twisted imagination to you.

.

**A/N: Yes. It has been a while. Sorry. I won't bore you with RL excuses. I'm just going to thank people reading for hanging in there, because you give me a reason to not to abandon this...**

**Please accept this B&B hotshot as partial recompense. The plan forward from here is a chapter for each of the ten days that they have together at Monkey Mia...but I was compelled to write this first. I am posting it with great trepidation & had do to do several edits to keep it T rated. Junkiecat - there is a small homage to you in this chapter (I blame you, of course)**

* * *

Saturday, October 9th 2010, 14:00 hours – Monkey Mia Resort, Western Australia

Booth had entered the villa where Brennan was sleeping that afternoon with every intention of a gentle awakening, possibly followed by some sort of explanation for his presence. He knew that Bones didn't like surprises, and based upon his prior experiences, he had prepared himself for an indignant rant at the very least. Instead, he found himself caught up in the cumulative collection of her emotionally and hormonally driven desires. Following the kiss of greeting which had an intensity threatening to send the muscles enabling functional speech off-line, Booth had tried to explain himself. Brennan observed that he looked almost ashamed, and despite being incredibly happy to see him, she wondered what possible reasoning lay behind his consternation. She attempted to suppress the smile that was threatening to dislocate her mandible.

.

"This was a conspiracy, wasn't it?" asked Brennan.

"I expected that you would put the pieces together, Bones. After all, it's what you do best. Yeah, I'm guilty. I'm sorry…" began Booth.

"Apologies are unnecessary, Booth"

"Hey, I took a risk, knowing full well that you don't like surprises. C'mon, aren't you even a little bit pissed at me?" he asked with a note of disbelief in his voice.

"No. Not at all, you took another gamble and the risk was worth it, because your presence here is not what I would classify as a surprise. It is an elaborate and carefully executed plan to fulfil my dreams. There is a difference. I believe that difference is what we have together; proving that we are still the centre" she surmised, running a questing finger along his left clavicle.

"It's still holding strong" he said, placing his hand on her belly, just under the umbilicus with a fascinated expression on his face. "It's growing stronger. I just needed to find a way be with you, wherever you were; to share what little time I can give you."

Brennan placed her own hand over his. "You've already given me so much. Introduced me to new human experiences that I always felt detached from, permitted me to approach the concept of love from my own perspective, and accepted what I can give you without confining me to stereotypes. I would like to thank you."

"No thanks necessary, Temperance" he replied with a cocky grin.

"On the contrary, I find it necessary. Perhaps we can compromise, Booth?" she asked with a hint of challenge, continuing as he raised his chin in assent. "I will share the rest of my dream with you, and you can…appreciate the experience."

"There were bits of that dream that you couldn't tell me about over a Hershey Bar?" asked Booth as she nodded in response.

"Generally, your dream-self starts by kissing me. Here." She said playfully, indicating the place with her index finger.

.

Taking the initiative, he pulled her in closer and placed his parted lips on what he knew to be a sensitive spot just below her ear, using the tip of his tongue to fuel the sensation. He got the shock of his life as Brennan suppressed a whimper, and stiffened in his arms with an involuntary spasm against his body; she released a jittery breath that morphed into a very satisfied chuckle. He struggled to maintain a grip on his own self-control, over what was possibly the hottest display of intimate capitulation that Seeley Booth had ever witnessed in his life. Period.

"_That _happened in your dream? He asked the boneless Bones in his arms. Her skin was still flushed, and her eyes had pupils blown out to maximum dilation as another surge of hormonally charged arousal threatened to overwhelm her.

She lazily nipped at his bottom lip as she regained some composure. "Yes, on many occasions, but the real experience is more potent than a dream, of course."

"Of course" parroted Booth in a strangled tone. "So in this dream, do I get to survive?" he asked, beginning to feel considerably constricted within the current confines of his clothing.

"You live to love another day" she replied. "But in order to fully appreciate the dream that you have come to fulfil, I will need to demonstrate some of the requirements."

"I don't know what that means" said Booth with grin that twitched on the edge of cocky.

"Then if you will indulge me, I will enlighten you" she said.

Booth proceeded on his mission to indulge her.

* * *

Returning from the kitchenette located in the main room of the villa, clad only in boxer shorts, and bearing a glass of water; Booth had left Temperance Brennan dozing, mussed up, and wrapped up in a sheet, following a frenzied and impromptu serving of what some people might refer to as _Afternoon Delight._ It had been more like _Afternoon Insanity_. His toes were still tingling from the experience.

.

Not having had a cordial relationship with Rebecca during her pregnancy with Parker, Booth had never formed an opinion around his feelings about a physical relationship with a pregnant woman. In Afghanistan, this had been an occasional topic of R&R conversation in his Ranger Unit, seeing as at least a third of the men there were in the process of becoming, or had recently become fathers. Some guys were a little put off by pregnancy, while many thought that it was sexy as hell. Booth's opinion was now firmly ensconced with those of the latter opinion. Not only did pregnancy suit Bones, it had clearly set their physical relationship on fire. He wasn't sure how they were going to prepare to deal with parting again after this ten day rendezvous. Another thing that Seeley Booth had not prepared himself for was the softer, more feminine, and more outwardly vulnerable Bones. Those famous walls that she customarily had in place were currently a mere picket fence.

.

Re-entering the bedroom, he heard the sound of the shower running and Brennan poked her head around the doorway leading to the bathroom.

"Come and take a shower" she said with a look of mischief on her face. "If we hurry, we can go and see the afternoon dolphin feeding."

Booth placed the glass of water on the bedside table. "Wait, what? You mean the dream isn't over?" he said with a laugh as her head disappeared.


	17. Alliterative Delights

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 17 - Alliterative delights**

**Disclaimer: **BONES is on hiatus; I still do not own any of it. Yet, I am compelled to produce a poor facsimile to entertain myself.

**A/N: Thanks again to those kind enough to review & Tweet their appreciation of the last chapter – it was encouraging, and entertaining. *NB: This site has been a little temperamental with a lot of chapters in the last couple of days, which is frustrating for everyone - if you've been getting the 'check the url message', I hear your frustrations...**

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Saturday, October 9th 2010, 16:00 hours - Monkey Mia Dolphin Resort, Western Australia

From her vantage point seated on a banana lounge outside the beachside holiday villa, an amused Dr. Eileen Haynes spied Seeley Booth exiting the villa assigned to Temperance, no doubt on his way to check on Parker. The poor man almost staggered as he stepped onto the paving because he was simultaneously attempting to slip on his shoes, and carry on a conversation with the woman following behind him. The tension in his frame that she had noted during their introduction a couple of hours previously, was now absent. As the couple approached, Eileen also noted the creases of worry on the brow of Seeley Booth had also vanished; he was wearing the grin of a supremely and recently satisfied male, which was only slightly spoiled by the dazed look in his eyes. It could have been the daze of jet-lag, but it was probably Temperance who was responsible, if the amused smirk on her face was any indicator.

.

"Took you long enough to wake her Booth! We don't let her loll about like a princess in Maluku, you know," remarked Eileen.

Booth gave a bark of laughter. "What happened to the search and rescue party? I could have been getting my ass kicked in there."

"Phil and I decided that none of the screaming that we heard was resulting from violence, so we left you to it" Eileen replied with a grin.

"I didn't realise that we were that loud," remarked Brennan, her smirk breaking into a grin. In actual fact, they had kept the noise to a minimum. Following their 'water-conserving' shower, which on account of the echoes from the tiled walls, may have generated some additional noise, they had spent most of the last hour lazing on the couch in the main room of the villa. They savoured the opportunity to just talk, like they would on the couches of their D.C. existence, with the addition of a smoochier element of course. They had mainly chatted idly about the ten days that they had together, and about keeping Parker amused.

.

"Is Parker awake yet?" asked Brennan.

"He was asleep ten minutes ago when I checked. You can go in and check on him again Temperance, but I reckon we should get him up, let him run around on the beach with the boys, feed him some dinner, and get him to bed again. Hopefully, he'll sleep again and be better acclimatised to the time zone by the morning" said Eileen.

Booth gave a shrug. "It might work. We'll go in and see if we can get him up, okay?"

"Mi casa, su casa" replied Eileen with a wave of her hand toward the door in invitation.

.

Booth headed toward the sliding door ahead of Brennan and opened it, waving her through the entrance like a doorman, giving a chuckle at the raised eyebrow from his partner at the mock-chivalry. Booth stopped in the kitchen to pour a glass of water, and they made their way to the rear of the villa to the bedroom where Parker was sprawled in a tangle of twiggy pre-pubescent limbs among the sheets.

Booth sat down on the edge of the bed and brushed back some of the unruly curls that were falling over his eyes.

"Hey, Parks! Wake up buddy" coaxed Booth, giving the kid a shoulder shake.

Parker opened his eyes blearily and gave a grizzle of dissatisfaction. "Urrgh! Dad, I'm still sleepy…"

"C'mon, sit up a little and have a drink, okay?"

Parker sat up rubbing his eyes and took the proffered glass, slurping his way through the water until it was gone, handing back the empty glass to his father on autopilot, then wiping his mouth with the back of his forearm. He blinked in surprise as he noticed the presence of Brennan.

.

"Hey! Dr. Bones!" exclaimed Parker as he scrambled across the bed to wrap Brennan in a hug, which she returned with a big smile on her face. The young boy froze mid-hug as he felt the baby bump between them. Extracting himself from the hug, he eyed Brennan warily.

"What's wrong Parker?" asked Brennan, involuntarily placing a protective hand on her belly.

"Did I just squish Joey-Bro?" asked Parker hesitantly. Booth gave a guffaw of laughter at the question, and the Junior Boothy-twist on the nickname. The laughter was hastily squelched by a look directed at him from Brennan.

"Of course not, Parker. My body protects the baby,…Joey, as he grows. A hug certainly won't hurt him; or me" said Brennan gently with a reassuring smile directed at the worried boy. Booth looked on, feeling a little in awe of this flash of maternal instinct in her.

"Cool!" said Parker, as he launched himself back into the hug. Brennan gave the unruly hair of Parker Booth a tousle and wrapped her arms around the boy, giving him a squeeze. Parker tilted his head up to look at her face, something else had occurred within his inquiring mind.

"Doctor Bones?"

"Yes, Parker?"

"Your belly has grown _really_ huge, you know" Parker observed.

"Yes. I am aware of that. It will grow even bigger before Joey is ready to be born" replied Brennan factually.

"Really?" When she nodded in the affirmative, Parker commented, "You might have a hard time getting him out if he gets much bigger!"

Booth spluttered a little, not liking the direction that this conversation was heading, at all. "Don't worry Parks! Mommies are equipped to deal with all that" he said winking at Brennan conspiratorially as he got up from the bed and placed his arm around her shoulder. He continued his deflection of Parkers' line of questioning. "And Bones here, is going to be the best Mommy in the world…"

Brennan frowned "You can't possibly…" she began in refute.

"Yes, I can" he replied, interrupting her. "I have every right to be subjective and biased when it comes to you, Bones."

"Charmer" retorted Brennan, releasing half of her Parker hug to poke Booth in the solar plexus. "Admitting your methodological flaws…I like it."

"You're not gonna start making out, are you?" asked a grossed out Parker Booth as he observed his father getting all 'googly-eyed' over his girlfriend.

"No, little man, we are getting ready to see the dolphins. So you need to get changed now, okay?" replied Booth.

"Alright!" said Parker and headed off to the bathroom.

"Hey! You forgot your change of clothes" said Booth, picking up a backpack from the floor. Parker indicated that his Dad should throw the bag, and gave a chortle of laughter as he intercepted the thrown bag with an exaggerated pro-sports leap. He slammed the bathroom door behind him.

.

"Parker has grown at least two inches" commented Brennan.

"Yeah, I know" said Booth. "Do you know what else I know?"

"By the look on your face, it has something to do with making out" she surmised.

"You know me so well, Bones" he said, moving toward her as she backed up against the wall behind her and grabbed the waistband of his pants to pull him along.

"Are you going to keep talking, or are you going to kiss me?" she demanded with a teasing expression.

Booth braced himself against the wall with an arm above their heads and leaned in, pectoral muscles flexing under the cotton of his T-shirt; her hands attracted magnetically to the firmness under the soft material.

"I'm gonna make out with you. Let me show you the difference" he murmured against her lips, before demonstrating. Temperance Brennan reconsidered her previous assessment of the merits of misspent youth spent making out under high school bleachers; Booth was highly proficient at 'making out', completely validating his previously professed skills.

* * *

After Booth and Parker had been 'introduced' to some of the Monkey Mia dolphins that had visited the beach that afternoon, along with a coach-load of Japanese tourists that had arrived on a day trip. He and Brennan had taken a stroll around the resort with Parker. She wore a floppy canvas hat to protect her from the sun, her arm casually linked through Booths', Parker bounced along enthusiastically, talking a mile a minute. She provided a lot of information and interesting facts as they walked, in her own academically amicable fashion.

* * *

The approaching sunset backlit the couple against the ocean as they sat on the end of the wooden jetty, legs dangling, fingers entwined. Accompanied by the background rhythm of waves hitting the wooden structure and the beach behind them, the squeals of half-a dozen kids playing no-rules beach cricket punctuated the warm evening. The sky was an almost cloudless artist's wash, transforming cornflower blue to burnt orange, as it descended toward the vanishing point where it kissed the ocean. A distant barbeque was sending out olfactory messages of a sumptuous dinner in the making.

"I'm glad you came, Booth. Today has been very special" said Brennan, picking at a fraying seam on her now discarded floppy hat.

"No way?" teased Booth.

"Way…" she said, swatting him with the canvas hat.

He caught the hand wielding the hat as it approached for a second swat and pulled her in for a brief kiss. The romance of the moment was marred by the rumbling of his stomach.

"Your stomach is betraying the intention of your lips, Booth" observed Brennan.

"Hey, a man's gotta eat…and that barbeque smells amazing"

Brennan gave an exaggerated sigh of disappointment and then paused, drawing Booth's hand to the spot where Joey had just decided to start flipping and kicking, after being quiet for most of the afternoon.

"Wow!" said Booth, as he felt the small wave of movement under his fingers. "I think he's agreeing with me…that is amazing."

"I suppose we should feed the Booth boys…at least one of them needs to keep his strength up" she said in a tone of resignation laced with satire.

They wandered hand in hand back down the Jetty, heading for an evening of food, family, fun and other alliteratively censored delights.

* * *

**A/N #2: The next chapter involves more alliteration...the Babymoon is henceforth also known as the alliteration arc! I hope you'll be kind enough to drop me a review as I finish up 'Drop-bears, Dolphins & Deltoids' ...it's going to be fun :) **


	18. Dropbears, Dolphins & Deltoids

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 18 – Drop-bears, Dolphins & Deltoids**

**.**

**Disclaimer: **If I owned BONES, I'd be on the FOX set today giving all my peeps a big hug. Alas, I am stuck at the arse-end of the earth instead!

**A/N: Time for Day 2, and more fluffy fun...eventually. Enjoy!**

* * *

Sunday October 10th, 2010 – 05:00 a.m. Monkey Mia, Western Australia

The false dawn was too distant yet to shed any light on the quiet sanctuary of Monkey Mia. The new moon was hidden behind a high band of cloud. For the isolated beachside location, it was particularly dark and quiet; the metronomic crash and wash of small waves on the beach was like the resting heartbeat of the sleeping community. However, a small rectangle of white-yellow light shone through a single window, from the very end beachfront villa. The light came from the kitchen, where Seeley Booth was brewing a cup of peppermint tea for the lady in his life.

.

He had awoken ten minutes earlier to an empty space beside him and the unmistakeable sounds of retching from the bathroom. Rolling out of bed and padding his way barefoot and barechested toward the sounds of misery, he found the world renowned Forensic Anthropologist and Best-Selling Author leaning over the sink in the dark, communing with the Porcelain Gods.

She looked up as Booth entered the bathroom and she stood up turning the water on, with a sleepy and unamused expression on her face. "Just a little nausea," she remarked groggily.

"I noticed" he replied, turning her sleepy body by the shoulders to face him, and pushing the hair back from her face. He placed his hand over her clammy forehead, then grabbed a couple of flannels and wet them under the cold tap. Squeezing out the excess fluid, he took one of the cool cloths and wiped her face "Okay, Bones, trust me, this will help."

"It will pass. I generally just make a cup of peppermint tea and sip at it," she explained putting her forehead onto his chest after he had completed his ministrations. Only three hours had passed from the time that they had finally fallen asleep. Since becoming subject to the effects of pregnancy hormones, Brennan didn't have the capacity to pull all-nighters anymore, and she slept more soundly nowadays than she could ever recall.

Booth rubbed at her back in large slow circle with his left hand. "I'll make the tea. Let's get the hair off the back of your neck and put this on" he said, indicating the cold flannel in his other hand. She flipped her hair over one shoulder and gave a small dry retch, turning away and grabbing onto the edge of the sink with her fingers, just in case. Booth placed the flannel on the back of her neck, eliciting a small shiver from her in response to the rapid temperature change. She rinsed her mouth out and took a couple of slow breaths to calm her roiling stomach and her reactively clenched jaw.

"That feels great, Booth. I might just sit on the edge of the tub here for a minute. I'll be fine, just give me a minute," she said.

.

* * *

Booth returned to the bedroom a few minutes later bearing a steaming mug of peppermint tea and placed it on the bedside table. Brennan had brushed her teeth and combed her hair back into a loose ponytail; she had put herself back into bed and was semi-reclined against a pile of pillows looking more alert with a small smile, and a hand over a now kicking Joey.

"You woke him up, Bones. Everything okay?" asked Booth, nodding his head toward the hand on her belly, and planting a kiss on her forehead as she nodded. "Scoot forward" he instructed. Brennan complied as he climbed onto the bed behind her, becoming a Boothy armchair, firmly padded with warm pectoral, rectus and transverse abdominal muscles. He radiated heat from his torso, which she welcomed gladly against her cool back as she reclined against it, wriggling back to seat herself between his legs.

"Here have some tea" he said, passing the mug from the table beside them. She took the mug and an experimental sip, letting the minty taste and scent wash away the last vestiges of queasiness. They sat silent and resting for a few minutes with his hands providing a gentle shoulder rub.

.

"The tea is excellent. Thank you." she said appreciatively, taking another, larger sip of peppermint tea, then resting her head back against his shoulder, still cradling the mug in both hands. "I believe that our son has the hiccups" she reported with a smile.

"Seriously?" asked Booth, ceasing his attention to her shoulders, sliding his hands over her belly from his position behind her.

"Yes" she replied. "It is not uncommon, although this is the first time that I have experienced it."

"Experiencing a first together, Temperance. Like normal people? I thought I was gonna miss all of this… Wow, it feels like some sort of weird muscle twitch."

Brennan gave a low laugh at his description. "The sensation is unusual from my perspective, Booth…ouch, that was a big one. I just got a head butt to the bladder. I think he flipped over."

"Hey, I felt that one too! Joey is putting on a show for his old man," said Booth with a note of pride in his voice.

"Highly improbable, but an amusing concept" she retorted.

Booth moved one of his hands to take her now empty mug and place it on the bedside table. On its' return trip, the hand danced fingers teasingly over her lower ribs, getting a wriggle and an attempted retaliatory elbow, which he caught easily. "You must be feeling better if you're up to factual debating, Bones."

Tilting her head back and around to see his grinning face, she said "I told you that the nausea would pass."

"Well. It's only five-thirty, so maybe we should try to get some more sleep, huh?" suggested Booth, running his hand from her ribs up toward her jaw, taking a topographically and sensually scenic route. His lips sought out hers as his hand rendezvoused with her jaw line. Peppermint exploded into his mouth as Brennan turned his gentle kiss into something decidedly more French and steamy.

Sleep would come eventually. Because everything happens eventually.

.

* * *

Parker Booth was having the time of his life. He had been really tired yesterday, and for once in his relatively few years of life, he had actually wanted to go to bed, when his Dad and Dr. Haynes told the three boys to do so at 10 p.m. He had still felt a bit floaty from being on an aircraft for so many hours, even the bantering of Mark and Caleb Haynes couldn't stop his eyes from closing as soon as his Dad and Dr. Bones had kissed him goodnight.

.

Today, the three pre-pubescent musketeers were going on a mission. The plan had been hatched over ice-cream in waffle cones after their dinner. The details were settled upon during a few rounds of a game called Pictionary that they had played before bedtime.

Today, Parker Booth was going on a mission to find a Drop-bear. Following the post ice-cream decision, he had asked his Dad some round-about questions about planning missions, and although Parker didn't get as much juicy detail as he would have liked, there was enough procedural flavour to impress the slightly older Haynes brothers with his handle on things.

.

Drop-bears were indigenous to Australia, a sandy grey coloured bear, similar to a Koala. Like Koalas, the Drop-bear naturally had a tree habitat. Unlike their relatively sleepy Koala cousins, the Drop-bear was one fierce customer. It looked kind of cute until it opened its mouth to display sharp incisors and fangs; they were omnivores, supplementing leaves with the blood and flesh of small mammals and marsupials. They also had sharp claws, and were not averse to using them as a first line welcome to those invading their territories. They dropped out of the branches of trees onto their victims.

For reasons that Parker Booth did not quite understand, Drop-bears were renowned for preying on tourists. The cause of this preference over victims had something to do with Vegemite exposure. Vegemite was a yeast based condiment found universally in Australain households. Parker didn't even know what Mark and Caleb were talking about until they took him into the kitchen pantry and opened the jar of evil-looking black paste to show him. It smelled bad, it looked bad, and there was no way that Parker was going to risk puking up a perfectly good ice-cream just to taste the stuff.

.

Parker Booth, with his Vegemite-naïve status, was going to be Drop-bear bait. The plan was fool-proof, because the Haynes boys knew the secret that would protect Parker – toothpaste, smeared behind the ears. If a Drop-bear came within six feet of a person wearing the fluoride protective talisman of toothpaste, the animal would begin foaming at the mouth in panic. Apparently, the dental hygiene of this menacing fiend was epically bad; toothpaste was their species-specific Kryptonite. Allegedly, only a dentist could walk unscathed through a copse of trees infested with Drop-bears. Parker saw the sense in this; his own dentist was a pretty scary dude, and she was a lady dentist.

.

After a hurried breakfast of toast and eggs on the patio tables (the Haynes boys put a thick layer of Vegemite on their toast with knowing nods across the table to their American counterpart), the pre-pubescent musketeers were ready to embark on their mission. Booth had to tell Parker to slow down his eating twice during breakfast. Doctor Bones had slept in, and arrived just as the boys were being hustled off from the dining table to brush their teeth and put some sun-block on.

"Is Parker not going for a swim with us this morning?" she asked Booth, noting that the boys had backpacks prepared and their walking shoes on.

"The boys are going to walk the Northern loop trail and try to catch a glimpse of some rare Australian animal. Eileen said it would be too hot to do it later, so they've been given the option to do it after breakfast," replied Booth.

"I see" said Brennan, a little disappointed that Parker wouldn't be coming along.

Noting her slightly crestfallen expression Booth "They'll only be a couple of hours, Bones. The kids will be eager for a cool swim when they get back."

.

Parker dashed out onto the patio area and grabbed his backpack. He gave his Dad a hug and a high-five and came to give Brennan a hug. Brennan noted that the boy smelled particularly 'minty fresh' this morning.

"Mornin' Joey," he said to her belly affectionately as his father smirked at her. She rolled her eyes at Booth. "How's he doing, Dr. Bones?" enquired Parker, adopting a very serious Boothy interrogation expression.

"Joey had hiccups this morning, but otherwise things are progressing as expected" she responded.

"Hiccups? Inside your belly? Are you pulling my leg, Dr. Bones?" asked Parker suspiciously.

Brennan held up both of her hands. "Look Parker, no hands. Why would I pull your leg?"

Booth interjected. "It's true buddy. There were hiccups."

"Okaaay…" said Parker, trying and failing to accept a fact that was a bit too weird for him to process. "We've gotta get going on the trail now, so I'll see you guys later."

Brennan saw a flash of something white next to Parkers' hairline behind his ear as he dashed off. "Wait, Parker. You've got something behind your ear…"

"It looked like toothpaste Booth" she explained. No dental hygiene regimen that she had ever encountered could account for toothpaste finding its way behind an ear.

"He'll be fine Bones. At least he is using toothpaste…" he said.

"Dental hygiene is important" she commented as she perused the cereals on the table and grabbed a bowl. "Would you like some granola, Booth?"

"No thanks, I ate with the kids" he replied. He honestly didn't know how Brennan could start the day with granola.

.

* * *

An hour later, Booth and Brennan were swimming in a secluded section of the beach, ten minutes walk from their villa. The coastline had created a natural cove, where the water was very calm with a small swell, ideal for recreation.

Brennan had insisted on doing some exercise by swimming for a while, protesting that she had been neglecting her Yoga since Booth had been around. He had retorted that he considered her strength and flexibility appeared to be just fine in his opinion. They had been standing in thigh deep water at the time, so Brennan employed a martial arts foot sweep, effectively dunking him flailing into the water. She didn't wait around for him to retaliate.

As his head emerged above the surface of the water, Booth heard a wicked laugh and a splash announcing that Brennan was making a run for it by swimming out into deeper water. Of course, he followed.

After perhaps a hundred meters, Booth caught up to Brennan, who definitely had better technique as a swimmer than he did. Making a dive underwater, he swam underneath her and blocked her progress. The water was just a little too deep for her to stand, but Booth could stand with his feet touching the sandy ocean floor. She was treading water, breathing heavily with exertion, with an unreadable expression on her face.

.

"You're gonna pay for that, Temperance Brennan" Booth announced with as much mock-menace as he could muster around his own recovery from exertion.

"Name your price, Seeley Booth" she countered propelling herself closer to him. "Have I told you that your deltoid muscles are particularly attractive when you've exerted yourself?"

"Which muscles are they again?" he asked, knowing full well where his deltoids were, and the exercises that he used to keep them 'attractive'.

She drifted into reach of his arms and placed her hands onto the hard muscles that capped the tip of each shoulder. Using his body as a pivot point, Brennan locked her legs around his hips under the water and used her own lower body strength to pull them together in a watery embrace. She smiled as his arms circled her hips to support her.

"Oh, right…_those_ deltoids" he said. "I'm still gonna name my price, Bones."

"Are you open to negotiation?" she asked sliding her hands from his deltoids to behind his neck interlocking her fingers. Before Booth could answer, she commenced her end of the negotiations with a kiss.

"Mmm! Salty Bones…a sodium chloride kiss" Booth commented trying out his high school chemistry vocabulary.

"Potassium chloride" she corrected. "It's sea salt."

"It tastes good all the same…," he said, poised to take another taste. "Whoa! What was THAT!" Booth exclaimed as a wash of water unbalanced him.

Brennan looked over Booths' shoulder and smiled. "We have company. Dolphin company" she said letting go of her grip on Booth and floating with a hand on his upper arm for support. "Remember what the Park Ranger said, Booth. Stay calm, they're just curious. I wish I wasn't wearing sun block, Booth…it stings their eyes."

A pair of dolphins emerged with their bottlenoses poking above the surface of the water. The larger dolphin nudged at Brennans' arm, chittering, which made Booth laugh.

"I think it wants a fish, Bones."

"I don't have any fish to feed it, Booth. They are amazing up close…so trusting of humans" she said in awe as the dolphin turned onto its side and looked at the humans with one eye, mouth open in a toothy dolphin smile. It nudged under her floating forearm wanting a pat. She rubbed the bottlenose gently.

"Here comes its friend" said Booth, who had been watching the other dolphin circling them with interest. The second dolphin approached in a tighter circle and as it swam behind Booth it gave a flick of its tail, which landed squarely on his butt, pitching him under the water and pulling Brennan under with him.

.

* * *

After the sun had gone down, and the dinner dishes were cleared, Parker began relating his Drop-bear hunting adventures to entertain the ladies of the Haynes family, as the men took their turn to wash the dishes.

"…so Mark sent me in to flush the Drop-bears out the bushes, but all I found was a Kangaroo. I think I scared it, because it jumped away really fast."

The gathered ladies made sympathetic noises.

"I wish I'd have been there when that dolphin slapped Dad in the butt though, that would have been funny" said Parker.

"Hey! I heard that, buddy" said Booth from the doorway to the kitchen.

"Once we were actually under the water, the dolphins seemed content to just swim with us. They were very friendly, and it was an amazing experience" said Brennan with a smile at the recollection.

"Yeah, one of those dolphins was a little too friendly, if you ask me. I'm sure that there will be a bruise tomorrow" he complained light-heartedly.

"We'll take your word for it, Booth" chortled Eileen Haynes.

* * *

**A/N #2: Sadly, two real dolphins at Monkey Mia were found dead this morning. They were found by tourists. It is believed that a sewerage spill was responsible for their demise… so I post this chapter with a heavy heart.**


	19. A Hiatus Homerun in a Hammock

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 19 – A Hiatus Home-run in a Hammock**

**Rated: Tap-dancing T**

**.**

**Disclaimer: **It appears that everyone is playing with the characters of BONES right now. I don't own them, but I'm attempting to treat them humanely…

**A/N: This is a bonus chapter, between day 2 & 3. Even though day 3 is pretty much done, I decided to split the chapter to write this interlude. A special mention goes out to the #BonesBBDirtyDoings ladies on Twitter – without them (and y'all know who you are) there would be no hammock in this chapter.**

**I won't get into any spoilers here – but there is a reason why the alliterative tone is 'H'. What I will say is, that this story has passed the half-way mark on my planner, and as Season 6 approaches, it somehow makes this story harder to write. However, I have a plan & it will be completed, with B&B coming full circle to where we found them in chapter one – perhaps with a little epilogue attached as a cherry on top ****. The reason that I am continuing to write this is for all the people that are reading…you really are a great bunch of people 3. Feel free to let me know in a review if you thought the interlude was worthwhile…**

* * *

Monday, October 11th 2010 – Monkey Mia, Western Australia

A squally spring storm had hit the Monkey Mia coast at around 2 a.m., bringing high winds, rain and crashing waves upon the normally calm shoreline. Just after midnight, the power to the town had failed, and the adults staying in the beach villas had been given torches by the resorts' night supervisor along with a weather warning.

The adult members of the Haynes family had been sat around talking with Booth and Brennan after the kids had gone to bed. With no electricity, the interior of the villa was now pitch black, and the adults were drawn outside onto the beach, where nature provided some substitute entertainment in the form of spectacular lightning show which played out over the ocean. With no light pollution in this sparsely populated region, the beach became a planetarium, with stars littering the inky black sky in all directions except for the North-West horizon, from where the storm approached. Turning their torches toward their respective villas, the group said their goodnights.

.

"Some nights in Maluku had skies like this," mused Brennan as they made their way through the soft sand, traversing the path to their bed for the night. "The main generator was shut down around 10 p.m."

"Same in Afghanistan, but the mountain ranges made the horizon smaller, and those desert nights are freezing. Don't get to see sight this in D.C., do we?" said Booth, his torchlight wavering a little as he stepped up onto the firmer couch-grass surface that surrounded their villa. The light of his torch fell upon the frame of the king-sized hammock that had become Brennan's favourite morning reading spot.

"There is far too much light pollution in D.C. Maluku is invariably humid, so the sunsets are spectacular, but cloud cover would block out the stars for the most part, except for the occasional night " she replied.

"Do you wanna stay out here and watch the show for a while, Bones?" asked Booth, shining a light onto the giant hammock to indicate his intended viewing spot.

Brennan gave a derisive laugh. "You've been threatening to get into that hammock with me for the past two days. According to the manufacturers' instructions, it will take our combined weight."

"Eh, I'm not convinced. You've put on a few pounds, Temperance…" he teased, receiving an open-handed slap to his rump in retaliation.

"Hey! That's right where the bruise is from the dolphin attack. Ouch!" he whined.

"Oh please!" said Brennan in mock anger. "Spare me your hyperbolic tale of woe, Booth, and hold this thing still while I climb in."

.

She moved the throw blanket that she had left there earlier and sat on the edge before swinging her legs up and into the cradle of the oversized hammock. Booth provided illumination with his torch and prevented the contraption from swinging. Without further ado, he climbed into the hammock beside her, chucking as the frame creaked in protest, and their bodies rolled into the centre of the large canvas, becoming comically cocooned together.

"So. What do we do now, girl-genius?" asked Booth, already taking advantage of the gravitational and rotational forces that rolled their bodies together. He began kissing his way up her sternocleidomastoid, starting at the clavicle and setting a course for her jaw line, to see what erogenous zones he could discover along the way. Playing a non-verbal version of the 'hot and cold' game, he knew when he was getting closer and she was getting close, when her quiet, intent focus and her steady breathing pattern began to falter under the overload of sensation. Brennan was more of a doer than a talker in sexual scenarios, but invariably, when she did say something, it was the polar opposite of a sweet nothing.

.

"Have you ever had sex in a hammock?" she asked in a low voice against his ear, giving a sharp exhalation as his lips approached a danger zone. Not to be outdone, she retaliated by taking the lobe of his ear between her lips, grazing it with her teeth, before providing a metaphorical demonstration of future intent with her tongue. She felt, rather than heard Booth give a low groan against her, as thunder rumbled in the distance.

"Nope. Got to second base on a chair swing once…" he replied, then gave an involuntary yelp as her hand stole a base, made a victory slide into second and squeezed. In a strangled tone he added, "…and I recently got to second base in a hammock. Not sure we can get a home run though."

A series of searing flashes of lightning lit up the sky, as incandescent blue-white forks danced between the storm clouds and the sea.

"Turn over, Bones, you're missing the show" said Booth, lifting his head and cupping one side of her bemused face. He planted a chaste kiss on her nose and she released her grip on second base with a smirk that could only just be made out in the starlight.

Booth braced his arm against the upper bracket of the hammock frame as she turned onto her opposite side to see the encroaching event horizon of the storm. Stars were being devoured by the roiling black clouds that were alive with flashes of electrical charge.

.

"It smells like rain…and bumper cars," commented Booth, as he wrapped his uppermost arm around her and absently stroked over the quiescent child within her. She tilted her head back to recline on his shoulder and look into his face, which was now being lit by the flickering flashbulbs of nature's Paparazzi.

"The smell is Ozone, Booth. The electrical storm causes dissociation of oxygen molecules into unstable oxygen atoms that recombine with other oxygen molecules…" she was silenced by a kiss.

"Hold the science. Let's take in the show. The way my feet are aching, is telling me it's gonna rain soon" he said.

.

Letting the sobering reference to Booths' abused feet slide, Brennan wriggled back against him with wanton intent, providing a physical deflection and a return to their baseball innings.

"Other parts of you are indicating that we are about to make a Home Run in a hammock" she observed. A crash of thunder punctuated her statement.

"From science to sexy sporting metaphors, I like the way you think, girl-genius" said Booth as he realised that she was entirely correct.

.

Brennan, pulled the throw rug up over them both, unaccountably pleased that she was about to get a fantasy fulfilled.

"Batter up, baby! It's going to rain soon…" she said with a laugh at her mastery over a sports metaphor.

.

The Ozone charged atmosphere gave Booth a surreal thrill, as he prepared to step up to the plate, white ash poised. Fortunately, for the be-hammocked lovers; in the path of an approaching storm, no one can hear you scream.


	20. Pictures, Pie and Plans

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 20 – Pictures, Pie and Plans**

**.**

**Disclaimer: **BONES does not belong to me, I am still pondering how unfair this is…

**A/N: I am so glad that readers enjoyed the interlude… here is Day 3 of the Babymoon – there is a nod to both GCatsPjs and MiseryMaker1 in this chapter…I'm generally not an angst-meister, but it is Friday the 13****th**

* * *

Monday, October 11th 2010 – Monkey Mia, Western Australia

The morning had dawned deceptively clear and cloudless, with a mere zephyr of a breeze stirring the sails of the catamaran moored at the Monkey Mia jetty. Evidence of the passing fury of the spring storm was scattered all around the town and resort; toppled outdoor furniture, a few torn shade sails, and lines of black kelp that had been deposited well up the beach, close to the sand dunes. The clean-up operation had been going on for much of the morning, after the electricity supply had been restored at 6:00 a.m. Most of the resort guests had experienced a broken night of sleep, but this hadn't made any impact upon the energy levels of Parker Booth and his two partners in crime. After depleting Monkey Mia of every pancake in sight, the three boys had headed off up the seaweed littered coastline with Ella to do some beachcombing before lunch.

* * *

Dr. Phil Haynes took the opportunity to invite Booth and Brennan to the villa that he shared with Eileen and the boys so that he could show them the 3D ultrasound images that he had loaded onto his laptop. Booth settled down onto the couch, next to Brennan and took in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the most beautiful aroma in the world; freshly baked apple pie. Prior to the storm arriving on the previous evening, there had been a conversation about the things that Booth had missed most about civilisation, whilst stationed in Afghanistan. Close to the top of that list had been something that met his definition of decent pie. Eileen Haynes had declared that she would make her Grandmother's apple pie recipe for Booth, and had taken their hire car into town to get the ingredients that very morning. Eileen had complained about the oven that she had to work with in the kitchen of the villa, but judging by the mouth-watering aroma that filled the room, it was not affecting the quality of the finished product.

.

"Wow. That pie smells amazing" enthused Booth.

"Eyes forward, soldier. We are looking at the pictures that Phil has ready for us," said Brennan in mock rebuke.

"The pie is too hot right now. You'll burn your mouth and get a tummy ache" chimed in Eileen, handing a cup of coffee to Booth and a glass of water to Brennan.

"Thanks,…and it would be so worth it!" said Booth with a laugh.

Phil Haynes clicked on the icon for the slide show of images that he had prepared for them to look at. The first picture appeared, in colour, the image looked like a bronze sculpture. The profile of Joey's face was shown as he was sucking on a thumb with his eyes shut.

"Incredible" said Brennan.

"Look at the little guy" Booth said leaning forward toward the screen, entranced.

Scrolling through ultrasound images taken of Joey and reconstructed into three dimensions, his parents bantered over the images.

"He has your ears, Bones."

"We will have to buy infant-sized stripy socks, because those feet are identical to yours."

"Well, those fingers, are just like these ones" said Booth, taking her hand and holding it up next to the screen.

"Phalanges and metacarpals, Booth. Yes, there are similarities," she conceded, curling her own around his.

.

"Y'see, Phil? Like I told you before, _lots_ of Squint-talk. _That's_ why I call her Bones. Hanging around this woman, I should get some sort of honorary degree or something!" quipped Booth, earning him an elbow to the ribs. "Wow! He's fairly well endowed there…" he exclaimed, when the image showing Joey's boy bits was shown on the screen.

Phil gave a guffaw of laughter. "If I had a dollar for every father who made that comment…the size of the genitals is mainly due to maternal hormones, rather than, ahem…genetic inheritance factors."

"Sure thing, Phil. Would you like a U.S. dollar or an Aussie dollar, 'cause there's no need to bring out the reassurances here. Bones knows the truth, and our kid is going to be gifted, like his father…" said Booth with a cocky grin.

"Alpha-male alert!" said Eileen, coming around the back of the couch to peer at the image on the screen. Brennan gave a chuckle.

"Booth is correct," commented Brennan. "I can confirm that he is a well-endowed male. His penis is…"

"Whoa there, Temperance!" Booth jumped in to put a handbrake on the conversation and turning to bring his face close to hers, lowering his voice into a conspiratorial tone. "Talking about my _'statistics' _is not something I'm really comfortable with. All you need to do is just agree with me, and leave out the sordid details, okay."

"The details are factual, not sordid…unless you want me to tell people specifically about what you do to me with your…" Brennan's words were smothered by a brief kiss.

.

Eileen gave a cackle of laughter. "You're the only person, I've ever seen who is able to stop Temperance making an argument. But, in my experience, if you give a man a six-pack of beer, you can't get them to _stop_ talking about their manhood. If there's a keg of beer on, they'll sometimes even get 'em out and measure."

Brennan wrinkled a brow. "That fieldwork must have been fascinating, Eileen."

"Nothing as Ethnographic as that. Just memories of my undergraduate years, student pubs, post-exam parties" replied Eileen.

"Australian University life sounds fascinating," commented Brennan.

"It sounds pretty much like every weekend in a Frat House, and Spring Break back home" chimed in Booth. "You don't know, because you were at the Library, Bones."

"Hey, I went to parties, and drank plenty of alcohol as a student," protested Brennan.

"I don't think that being in a study group, or celebrating the submission of a thesis over drinks actually counts" teased Booth.

.

Phil intervened by clearing his throat. "I hate to interrupt your highly entertaining conversation, but I thought perhaps you'd like to see the 4D images of your baby."

"4D! That sounds even cooler than 3D" said Booth.

Seeing the look of consternation on Brennan's face, indicating her intention to challenge the scientific validity of a fourth dimension, Phil held up a hand.

"4D images are 3D video images. It isn't a scientifically correct term, but that is what they are referred to as in the trade, okay?"

.

Brennan gave a nod, as Phil opened up a new window, which took half a minute to load. She whispered into Booth's ear "I have an idea for my next book. It has something to do with what you do with your…"

Not able to silence her with a kiss, Booth turned his head a little and aimed his lips at a target area on her neck that he knew would be just as effective. Judging by the hiss of the sharp intake of her breath and the way she had to restrain herself from jumping off the couch, he knew that his aim was good. Sniper good.

.

"There will be no pie, if I have to send you two to your room" said Eileen. Booth just waggled his eyebrows and plastered a charm smile across his face. Brennan ignored the comment as she was distracted by the video commencing.

The video was only a minute and a half in length, but it showed Brennan so much more than what she could actually feel was going on inside her body. Joey was being a fidget, just like his father, his legs twitched around, his hands were shadow-boxing, then waving around, then following an epic yawn, began sucking on a fist, with a determined focus that echoed that of his mother.

"He was active because you had the Glucose Tolerance Test that morning, Tempe" said Phil.

"Yes. Joey was on a sugar run that afternoon, I recall that he was very active" she replied.

"Sugar rush…" corrected Booth, still distracted by what he had just seen. "That was awesome. Can you play it again for me please, Phil?"

.

They watched the short video again. Brennan had a smile on her face that Booth rarely saw, unless he was trying really hard to make it happen. He wrapped her up into a hug and murmured next to her ear.

"He is so special. He's yours, he's mine, he's ours. I love you both so much it hurts, y'know?"

Brennan gave him an extra tight squeeze, and whispered in reply. "For the first time in my life, I think I actually know what you mean. It hurts, but somehow it's not painful."

.

They broke their embrace as Eileen approached with a slice of pie. Brennan shook her head and blinked at a couple of tears that had found their way unbidden to her eyes. Booth took his fork and gave a wide smile, as he took a chunk of the still warm pie and put it in his mouth, immediately making rapturous noises of Boothy contentment as he savoured the flavour.

Brennan turned to Phil and gave a passable parody of Booth. ""Y'see, Phil? Like I told you before, _lots_ of pie-talk. _That's_ why we are always at the Diner and I worry about him getting fat. Hanging around with this guy, I should get some sort of medal or something!"

Booth laughed around his second mouthful of pie and attempted to offer a forkful to Brennan, who shook her head, grimacing at the cooked fruit.

.

Phil reached a hand over to touch Brennan on the arm to get her attention.

"This is probably as good a time as any, and I hate to put a damper on your happiness Tempe, but we should talk about this before the kids get back. Your official ultrasound report came through via e-mail a couple of hours ago. The radiographer has found something that is going cause a problem for you."

Tears sprang to Brennan's eyes and she felt a wave of panic wash over her. "A problem? What does that mean? Tell me?" she demanded in a slightly unsteady voice, as she felt Booth place a protective arm around her as the word _'problem' _was uttered. Feeling an urge to shrug his arm off and push him away, she took a breath to control her baseline reaction to run, then pushed herself in toward his body to shelter there instead.

"Tempe, it means that you may have to change your plans to guarantee the health and safety of you and your baby" said Phil.

.

The remnants of apple pie in Booth's mouth turned to ashes, wondering just how badly he had pissed off God. Three goddamned days together. Happy. Now this?

* * *

**A/N: Cliff? What cli... arrrrggh!**


	21. Rationally Reconsidering Reality

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 21 - Rationally Reconsidering Reality**

**Disclaimer: **BONES does not belong to me. I really don't know what that means in any case.

.

**A/N: Okay, I apologise for the dramatic cliff – but I believe that you've all read Chapter 1…which is ****not**** a dream. It has been an epic week in RL, but I've been working a little each day on this chapter so it would be ready for the weekend. On with the story...**

* * *

It took a record eighteen hours for Brennan to process her reaction to the news.

At 4:30 a.m. a few short hours after getting to sleep, she was awoken by a fetal kick to her full bladder. Slipping silently out of bed, her pelvic ligaments complained as gravity exerted downward force upon them. On her way back from the bathroom, she considered that it may be beneficial at some point today to take another ocean swim to maintain her muscle tone. She also considered crawling back into bed again, attracted by the primal call of the muscle tone that was partially covered by the sheet and light blanket pulled over Booth's hips. But she couldn't bring herself to potentially disturb him again so soon.

.

Grabbing a soft cotton wrap in the dark, she headed to the main living area of the villa, pulling the door to the bedroom to the point where it was almost closed. Making her way into the kitchen, she switched on the counter light and tested the weight of the kettle to ascertain if there was enough water inside; there was, so she flicked the switch on the appliance, took out a clean cup and placed a herbal tea bag into it.

The kettle gave a muted ping and clicked off as the water came to the boil; the sounds were overly loud in the pre-dawn silence. Brennan glanced at the door to the bedroom as she heard a creak from the bed, hoping that it was just Booth shifting in his sleep. After pouring water into her cup, she absently jiggled the tea bag by the paper tab at the end of the string as she made her way over to sit on the three seater couch, swinging her legs up onto the seat cushions. Still feeling some residual tension from yesterday's news she took a calming breath and placed the warm cup over her T-shirt covered belly because it was too hot to drink. Joey gave an enthusiastic kick at the warmth, followed by the old one-two punch to her bladder; he was clearly positioned with his head facing down toward her pelvis, and the source of their collective problem.

.

"Good morning to you too" said Brennan to her belly. She wasn't sure why it felt right to talk to her child in-utero, but the literature suggested that it was a mutually beneficial practice, as were such things as playing music. Rubbing her spare hand over the ever-increasing evidence of impending motherhood, she smiled as small internal movements were punctuated by the occasional kick or punch. As was her habit of late, she kept talking, it didn't really matter what she said to her child. Invariably, Brennan spoke about whatever was on her mind at the time. As it happened, she had a lot on her mind.

"So, I have to make a decision to do what is best for both of us. I have considered our options, the risks, the benefits…every factor that I can think of. Yesterday, I was frustrated and disappointed that our plans are going to be changed. Fortunately, Booth…your father, helped me to work through my frustrations…"

.

"Is that what you're gonna call it, baby? Not that I'm complaining about being ravished by the hottest expectant Mom in Monkey Mia…" said Booth from the bedroom doorway.

"I didn't intend to wake you" said Brennan by way of apology. "Do you have to call me baby?"

"Turn around is fair play. After all, you screamed that word out at me at least three times since the sun went down" he quipped, scrubbing his fingers absently over his scalp. It didn't detract much from the look of his tousled bed head though.

Brennan gave a grin, which she tried to cover by taking a sip of her tea. "I used the expression in a completely different context, and I believe that I used the term five times."

Booth made his way into the kitchen area in sweatpants and a T-shirt, and opened the refrigerator, taking the milk carton out. He rummaged around for a glass.

"Uh huh. Well there were a few other words that you trucked out last night, that I'd never expected you to utter either, Temperance Brennan" he chided, as he poured a tall glass of milk.

"As I recall, you joined in enthusiastically" she teased.

"No, Booth! You can't eat pie for breakfast!" she exclaimed as he lifted the foil cover on the plate that contained a leftover slice of Eileen Haynes' apple pie.

Carrying the plate, a fork, and his glass of milk over to the couch, Booth indicated his disagreement with a shake of his head. "This is _not _breakfast. It's _way _too early. It's still dark out, so it counts as a midnight snack. Those are the rules."

"According to what authority? The pie rules of Seeley Booth?" asked Brennan.

"You got it, baby" replied Booth as he seated himself on the couch, Brennan moving her feet and folding her legs under to make room for him.

"That's twice" she warned him.

"Yeah, I'm keeping score" he said, taking a fork full of pie and shovelling it in.

.

Brennan rolled her eyes and drank her tea, watching Booth devour his pie and wash it down with the glass of milk. He hadn't pushed her, or pressured her to make a decision after Phil had informed them that her plans would have to change, giving her time to work through her emotions and frustrations. They had been for a long walk up the beach, attended an education session on the local aquatic ecosystem of the reefs with Parker, that was being run for a class of visiting school children; and turned in for a relatively early night after Parker had crashed following a large dinner, and a massive amount of apple pie in true Booth style.

.

"I'm not going back to D.C., Booth" said Brennan, as Booth rounded up the last of the pastry crumbs on his plate.

"Didn't think you would, Bones" he replied, flicking his glance sideways at her.

"I have decided to take Phil's advice and leave Maluku just prior to Christmas, while it is still safe to fly. This baby, my progeny, our child, is what I want in my life. I just can't take the risk, Booth."

"Why not go home to D.C.? It has the facilities that you'll need to be close to. If you had to work, and let's face it Bones, you don't _have to_ work, the Jeffersonian would have you back in a heartbeat" argued Booth.

.

Brennan closed her eyes and gave a huffing sigh, the only indication that she was upset. He saw the turmoil and scooted over on the couch to pull her over onto his lap.

"I'm heavy Booth; your back" she cautioned, as she wrapped her arms around him anyway, and curled up onto his lap as best she could.

"Ooomph!" grunted Booth with mock effort. "Good job I don't charge for the excess baggage."

"I have not gained excessive weight! In fact, Phil says I need to gain a few pounds" retorted Brennan.

"So. You won't go home without me. Is that it?" murmured Booth into her hair as he ran a hand along her outer thigh.

"I have come to the conclusion that I am more vulnerable in my current condition. Returning without you would represent an omnipresent reminder of your absence. There are tens of thousands of other American women, loved ones and significant others of heroes like yourself, Booth…serving their country, daily media reports of the fatalities, tragic stories of those left behind. I don't want to be part of their reality, constantly reminded of the possibility of being left behind again, even if the risk is remote."

"Once this tour is done, Temperance, I'm never gonna leave you again. Do you hear me?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion.

She nodded, tightening her grip around his neck, and whispered, "I know."

"This thing, this problem. I need to know you'll be okay, that our kid is gonna be okay. I know Phil gave all his doctorly assurances, but that's what doctors do when they've just scared the crap outta you, right? What I want to know right now, is what my most trusted girl-genius thinks…"

.

Brennan tilted back her head, resting back onto the support of his arm, so she could make eye contact with him. He'd given her the time she needed to work through her emotions, the very least she could do in return was convey the sincerity of her convictions and conclusions through eye contact.

"My placenta is low lying, Booth. It was low lying on the first Ambon scans too, but in 90% of cases, it resolves itself as the uterus grows. But not in my case it seems. It isn't the worst grade of the placenta pravia condition, but it does present an additional risk of bleeding in the late stages of pregnancy, and at the time of delivery."

He maintained steady eye contact with her during this explanation, observing, gauging her reaction.

.

"You're a little bit scared though, aren't you Bones?" he asked, point blank.

She pressed her lips together and considered her response, he could see her compartmentalising her fears away.

"Objectively, I'm an extremely healthy woman of child-bearing age. Pregnancy is not an illness. Our baby is developing normally. We have simply become aware of a previously unknown risk factor, which may not result in any actual risk at all."

"Phil said you could end up having a C-Section because of this, I was listening y'know," said Booth.

"That is true, Booth, and it would be disappointing not to have a natural birth, but if it presents a risk to Joey, I will do whatever is necessary. This isn't just about me" she said.

"That's right, you've got the welfare of a small human to consider. Joey" he said, idly stroking the baby bump.

"It's more than that Booth. This is about the future of our family, something that I have recently been trying to come to terms with. There are so many variables and possible outcomes to consider. It presents a quandary, because making an informed choice means not necessarily making the most rational choice."

He brushed her lips with a kiss. "Are you telling me that you, _the_ Temperance Brennan, made a decision with your heart?"

"In the context of our family, it was the logical conclusion," she said with all the decisiveness she could muster.

"So what was the sex marathon about then, Bones? Not that I'm complaining, you understand" asked Booth with a grin.

"I found the process…frustrating. Normally, I would write to get the frustration out of my system. Sex is just another form of expression" she explained.

"Right. Expression" he replied, trying and failing to follow her reasoning. "When we get home, I'm gonna have to watch out for this… you may never finish another book with me around."

.

Brennan smiled, yawned and shivered a little in the pre-dawn coolness.

"C'mon. Let's go back to bed, baby. My midnight snack has made me all sleepy again" he said.

"That's the third time, Booth. Are you deliberately trying to frustrate me?" Brennan asked archly, getting up from his lap.

"No, Bones. It's just gone 5:00 a.m., I am _actually_ sleepy, and so are you. We need some rest because we're going whale watching with Parker in a little over four hours." He pushed himself up from the couch and followed Brennan back to the bedroom and gave a laugh.

.

"What is so funny, Booth?" she asked around another yawn.

"You've got the whole waddle thing going on, Bones. I never noticed that before" he admitted, enjoying his observation a little more than was strictly necessary.

Brennan gave a wry chuckle as they climbed back into bed, she dragged the bedclothes over them both, giving a huge yawn as Booth spooned up behind her, placing a warm hand over her belly.

Booth felt his eyelids getting heavy as warmth was generated between their bodies.

"Sleep well, baby" he said as he kissed her shoulder.

.

A light snore was the only response he received.


	22. Blood and Bones, Baby

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 22 – Blood and Bones, Baby**

**.**

**Disclaimer: **BONES does not belong to me. No offence or infringement is intended.

**A/N: A bumper long chapter for you all, dear readers – I was going to cliffie it half-way, but I couldn't be mean – you'll recognise the cliff when you get to it. Many thanks for the continued alerts and favourites. *Hugs* to all the reviewers out there too. RL is frantic, but I'm persisting!**

* * *

Dr. Temperance Brennan was reclined in a hammock. Having awoken feeling congested, like she was coming down with a cold, she took an option for a lazy morning, Her decision had met with approval from Phil, Eileen, and Booth. With a smirk of recollection, she considered that the current scope and purpose for being in the hammock today could not have been more different to the last time she had been here. It was broad daylight, the day was bright and clear, without a cloud in the sky. Booth was not present; three hours ago, he had taken Parker and the Haynes boys for a morning of orienteering and exploring, loaded down with enough food and drink to supply an Army Ranger mission, never mind one adult and three juveniles.

.

Making some amendments to the academic manuscript that she was reviewing in readiness for a journal submission, she gave a sigh and pouted at the discussion section of the article, which was dealing with the validity of alternative testing protocols for their ancient Maluku remains. It wasn't flowing as well as she had hoped between the results section, and the conclusions that she had drawn. A nagging headache was not helping either. Perhaps she could convince Eileen to cast an eye over the document; she was a co-author after all.

.

"Penny for your thoughts, Dr Brennan," came the voice of Ella Haynes who had lifted her head out of the Physics text that she was reading. The sixteen year-old was sprawled over two outdoor chairs, studying for her high school finals to obtain her University entrance.

.

"I apologise if I distracted you from your studies," said Brennan. "Are pennies still in circulation in Australian currency?"

"You didn't," replied Ella with a smile. "I had just finished the revision questions for the section. The penny went out of circulation in 1971 when Australian currency converted to dollars and cents. I was just using the expression because you sighed loudly."

"I see. You've been studying for many hours each day, Ella. Do believe that you're prepared for your finals?" asked Brennan.

"Yes. I have a schedule, and I am sticking to it. If I do well in my exams, Mum and Dad will let me intern in Maluku next semester and study online."

"Will you get credit for your time in Maluku?" asked Brennan.

"Thanks to both my parents being members of the University faculty, yes, it's been arranged; even though I haven't officially been accepted yet, I've been headhunted for a scholarship."

"That is very impressive," said Brennan approving of the level-headed approach of this well-adjusted girl.

.

It was Ella's turn to give a sigh.

"Would you also like a penny for your thoughts, Ella?" queried Brennan. Which got her an appreciative chuckle from her young companion in response.

"Sometimes, I wish I could study overseas. See the world. But my parents won't let me go until I'm eighteen," confided Ella, a little uncomfortable with her dissatisfaction.

Brennan looked directly at Ella. "Time with your parents at your age is very valuable. I was alone at your age, with no family, so I speak from direct experience."

"That is so sad!" exclaimed Ella, closing her text book.

"I know," replied Brennan, reflexively closing her laptop as she felt a pang of sadness, and prickling tears. "I may go indoors for a while."

"Okay. I will see you later then," said the younger woman, completely confused by the abrupt and confronting end to their conversation.

.

Brennan extracted herself from the hammock, as Ella walked back to where her Mother would no doubt have to make sense of what her daughter couldn't even hope to comprehend.

* * *

In the cooler, shady interior of the villa which she shared with Booth, silent except for the hum of the refrigerator; Brennan pondered that she was a solitary individual, comfortable in her own company, accustomed to taking care of herself. What she saw in Ella Haynes was the way she could have been at sixteen; part of a family, highly intelligent, supported, accepted for who she was. In the end, it came down to the societal influences of nature and nurture – Temperance Brennan, abandoned at fifteen, had been bereft of nurturing influences, subject to her remaining natural instincts to survive. Driven by rationality rather than emotion, her younger self had relied on what she could trust; logic.

.

For the best part seven years, she had been fighting to hold on to the patterns of behaviour that kept her safe, aloof, in control, free from the entanglements of ephemeral and untidy emotions. Unloved, and unloving behind her protective, scarred shell.

Her mother was long gone. There would be no trans-generational bonding from mother to daughter during her pregnancy. In this, Brennan was alone.

Max Keenan was back in her life. Her father in a disconnected fashion. They shared a common preference for a solitary existence; Max was often gone. In this too, for all practical purposes, she was alone.

Booth was here now, but in five days he would be shipped back to a war zone. Irrationally, that small risk that he could be killed, taken out of her life forever caused a band of pain around her middle that almost stole her breath away. She could be left alone.

The only Booth in the vicinity took the opportunity to change his position and give his mother a sharp kick, refuting her flawed logic, saying: 'Hello! Remember me. You will never be alone.' Brennan laughed at herself and placed her hands over her kicking son; cursing her hormonal mood swings, wondering why she was crying, cursing her now pounding headache, wondering why she was sweating. So much so that it was trickling down her leg. She glanced down, still chuckling to herself, and froze.

A small rivulet of blood navigated its way over the medial tibial tuberosity of her left leg as it headed past her knee, as gravity pulled it toward the floor. Another, stronger wave of pain gripped Brennan from just below her ribs to the depths of her pelvic floor, intensified as her knees hit the floor. An involuntary scream was ripped from her vocal cords.

.

Eileen Haynes was already heading next door to see if Temperance was alright, after putting the concerns of her daughter, Ella, to rest. She heard the scream and ran the last ten paces to the screen door. Almost sliding the door off its tracks in her haste, Eileen found her friend and colleague on her knees, with her arms wrapped around herself in terror, face pallid with shock, eyes blank with fear. Temperance was speaking loudly to nobody that Eileen could see.

"No. No. Don't leave me too. I don't want to be alone….Noooo!" Brennan began to shed tears of agony, clutching at her belly, and twisting awkwardly on the floor in an attempt to get up.

The desperate verbal mantra continued, and with a start, her colleague realised that Temperance was talking to her unborn child. At that moment, Eileen spotted the dark red smear across the white floor tile that followed the path of the knee that had just moved. Cursing, the elder anthropologist staggered two steps back toward the doorway and bellowed for her husband. As she heard the crash from their villa, indicating that Phil was on his way, Eileen joined Brennan on the floor and put her arms around her, telling her that everything was going to be alright.

.

* * *

Approximately ninety minutes later, Booth approached the resort via one of the bush walking tracks, with three exhausted boys trailing along in his wake, all chattering and joking away. As they entered the parking area, he saw Phil sat on the tail gait of an ambulance rummaging through a large box of drugs, and talking earnestly with a woman who appeared to be a paramedic, as his daughter Ella looked on.

Booth hailed Phil from across the carpark. "Hey, Phil! Don't tell me you're delivering a baby on your vacation?" As all three people from the ambulance looked up at him, Booth realised that they had been waiting for him; his blood turned to ice.

Ella quickly jumped into the conversation, asking the boys if they wanted to watch a DVD, offering to make popcorn; she beckoned them to follow her. Parker tugged on the front of his Dad's T-shirt. Booth glanced down at his son and waved him off on his way with his last shred of control.

Phil approached. "Booth, Tempe is unwell. Things are under control. They're both stable."

"Where is Bones? Is she at the hospital?" asked Booth, firing off the questions.

"I'm the only specialist in a 500 kilometre radius of here, Booth. I don't think we'll have to fly her out, but as her doctor, I will do it if she threatens pre-term labour again," said Phil in a no nonsense tone.

"Labour? She's here? In our villa?" Booth demanded.

Receiving a nod of confirmation, Seeley Booth took off toward the beach without waiting for any further explanations. Phil shook his head in amazement and followed behind at a more sedate pace, with the drugs that would hopefully keep things under control.

.

* * *

Running across the grassed barbeque and picnic area, Booth approached the low wall that separated the area from the beach, and vaulted over it with the energy of a man half his age. He scrambled to find his footing as he landed in the soft sand, almost losing his balance. Ten metres away, was the door to the villa; he skidded to a halt in front of it, dumping the backpack that he had forgotten that he had on.

Entering the villa, the first thing that he saw was the bloodstain on the floor tiles. He cringed at the thought that blood belonged to Brennan, but he had enough exposure to crime scenes to know that it wasn't a very large amount of blood. Out of habit he skirted around the evidence of trauma and headed toward the bedroom, where he could a low hum of machinery.

Eileen stood up the moment he entered the room. Booth recognised a nebuliser machine, which was switched on and attached to a mask which hissed and produced a white mist over Brennan's face. He sat down on the bed beside her, where she was propped up with half-a-dozen pillows. She barely stirred, and her eyes stayed shut when he kissed her forehead. He muttered a couple of Ranger-special ops curses, eliciting a word that sounded like 'Booth' from beneath the mask.

"Phil sedated her, Booth. Don't worry. It won't harm either of them. She's having another nebuliser. The pain and bleeding has stopped." Said Eileen

Booth did a double-take. "Wait, she's having an asthma attack? I thought Phil said she went into labour…"

"The asthma drug stops pre-term labour," explained Eileen.

.

"Which I would have explained, if you hadn't run off like a bat out of hell" announced Phil as he entered the room.

"What the hell happened?" asked Booth. "Five hours ago, Bones was feeling a little rough and decided to have an easy morning. I get back and walk into an episode of Grey's Anatomy!"

"I've taken some tests and sent them off by air to the lab, so the cause of this is based on my working diagnosis, okay?" asked Phil. He was a straight-up guy, who Booth had discovered didn't indulge in bullshit.

"Anything you know. All I really need to know is she's going to be okay, our kid is still okay, and whether I need to try to extend my leave if I need to," said Booth.

.

Phil continued. "I believe that Tempe has an upper respiratory infection, not bad enough to be called pneumonia, we've got it early, but serious enough to need some antibiotics. I've also given her some fluids with a little sugar and some electrolytes in that IV bag that is jerry-rigged to the blinds with a coat-hanger. In some pregnant women, an infection can set off an inflammatory response, cause irritation of the uterus, and trigger premature labour. Because of the low lying placenta, this has caused some bleeding."

"Woah! She didn't cut herself on a glass or something? The bleeding is from…down there?" Booth put his hand over her swollen belly and bit back an oath that Pops would have whooped him for using.

"It was vaginal bleeding. I'm her obstetrician, I checked. It confirms something that we didn't know before, about the future risk of bleeding. It is almost certain that this baby will be a Caesarean delivery. She also had an elevated temperature from the infection. We're not sure if she was hallucinating, or had a panic attack, but when Eileen found her, she was very distressed. She was convinced that she had lost her baby and was going to be alone again. I had to sedate her; a decision that I didn't take lightly."

.

"Temperance mentioned something to Ella about being alone from her teenage years. Ella was a little spooked by the experience, so I came here to check on her. She scared the shit out of me, Booth. She was clearly in shock. It was like that day in Maluku, she found out she was pregnant and fainted on me," recalled Eileen. "I'm going back to see how Ella is getting on with the boys. Shall I bring Parker over in an hour or so?"

"Yes. Thanks Eileen. Wow! She fainted? Bones? You never told me that!" said Booth with a hint of a smile to the sedated woman that he had somehow managed to place his arm behind. Booth knew what the distress of being alone meant to Brennan, but didn't want to discuss it now. Out of respect, he didn't feel that it was his story to tell.

.

Phil had moved around the other side of the bed, full of clinical purpose. "Let's get that mask off, now Tempe," he said in a steady, confident tone. He handed Booth a flannel and indicated that it should be used on Brennan's face. Booth complied, wiping the cool cloth over the contours of her face, while Phil took a blood pressure measurement and listened to her chest with practiced ease. He gave nods and hums of approval. "Heart rate is still up, but that's the beta-adrenergic receptor effect of the salbutamol talking. Okay, let's check out the little fella. Blankets down, shirt up please, Booth."

If Booth had any issues with playing handmaiden to Dr. Phil Haynes, he wasn't going to pick a fight about it. He was too eager to find out if Joey was going to be okay. He complied, as Phil switched on his portable ultrasound Doppler unit.

.

"Bones? Dr. Phil is going to check on the baby. I'm here. You're okay…" reassured Booth.

Phil felt for the position of baby and talked his way through the process for the benefit of Booth.

"Baby is lying transverse, or sideways, for want of a better description. His head is facing me, his butt is facing you Booth. I'll show you how to feel the difference, give me your hands," said Phil to an intrigued Booth, who felt like he was being given some sort of Jedi power. Phil placed Booths' hands in the appropriate spots, lying flat on either side of the baby bump. "Feel the shapes under the surface; close your eyes if it helps you to concentrate."

Booth chose instead to focus on Brennan's face to see if she reacted. Her eyes did flicker in response to his touch and voice. "Both sides have a round bit. A bit bigger on your side, Phil. This can't hurt them?" said Booth a little perturbed despite his fascination.

"Nope! Babies are tough. Pregnant ladies are tougher. I haven't broken one yet," quipped Phil with a wink as he took a small tube of gel from the bedside table. "The bigger round part is the skull, on my side. Take your hand away from my side of her belly now. I'll just use this Doppler probe to get a heart rate. It uses ultrasound waves, but doesn't take pictures."

Booth nodded and kept watching Brennan for signs of rousing; her cheeks and lips were less pale than a few minutes previously. The rapid whooshing beat came out of the handheld machine. Phil turned up the volume and timed the rate against his watch, even though Booth could see 140 on the LCD readout. The small speaker on the unit gave out three loud tinny taps in rapid succession. Booth looked down at his hand.

"I felt that! It sounded like knocking, but he kicked, right?" said Booth.

Phil nodded, switching off the Doppler probe. "Your baby doesn't like ultrasound probes much. By all accounts he likes to make his displeasure known. He certainly did kick, just to let us know he's awake, and none the worse for today's experience. Plus the sugar in that IV bag is kicking in."

"Whoa! He kicked again, that was a big one," exclaimed Booth.

.

"I felt it too, Booth," whispered Brennan. Her eyes cracked open to meet the concerned brown eyes of her partner; in all things. The fingers of her right hand stole under the hand he still had placed on her abdomen and wriggled underneath his.

Booth moved his lips close to her ear. "You're going to be fine, Temperance. It turns out our kid is a tough cookie too, just like his Mom."

"Just like his Dad…" she retorted weakly.

"Don't scare me like this, Bones. Even though we're going to be separated soon, it won't be forever. I'm not going to leave you alone, do you hear me?" he asked her as her eyes closed.

Brennan nodded her head in response, and swallowed a small sob that was threatening; she was still floating in a haze of sedative narcotic.

"Me and Joey had a chat while you were sleeping, see?" continued Booth. "The deal is, Joey won't ever let you be alone. Lovers, friends, and acquaintances, come and go. It all comes under that 'love is ephemeral' theory of yours. I let Joey in on some secrets, about you, Bones. The magical powers that your breasts will have over him, those amazing magic fingers that sooth away pain, that hypnotic voice that even makes squinty words sound like a bedtime story…"

"My breasts do not have magical powers, Booth! No amount of drugs will dull my intellect to the point where I will admit to that!" she said a little more forcefully, her eyes opening to see Phil in her field of vision, trying to suppress his amusement at her outburst.

.

"No more pains, Tempe?" asked Phil.

"No. Phil, thank you," she replied.

"You're welcome. I'll put it on my bill, and you owe my wife a packet of hair dye, okay?" said Phil.

"I don't know what that means," said Brennan.

"I'm not surprised with the sedatives I gave you," conceded Phil. "Doctor's orders now. Complete bed rest until dinner time tomorrow, you may get up to use the bathroom _only_. I'll decide whether you can shower in the morning, _after_ I examine you first thing. I'm going to come back in a couple of hours, and just before I turn in for the night to give you some antibiotics through the IV. You'll be more awake tonight, because I gave you a steroid injection as a standard precaution. I've let the flying doctor service know about you, Tempe. If you, or your baby, give me any trouble, I will put you on a flying ambulance to Perth, where you will be placed under the care of my crack team of cranky midwives. Any bleeding, you send Booth to get me. Any cramps, you send Booth to get me. If you need something, the Sarge is in charge. Do we have a deal?"

.

"Yes. These terms are reasonable, Phil," agreed Brennan.

"The Sarge is in charge," repeated Booth.


	23. Mysteries, Macaroni, and Meanings

**The Progeny in the Parting**

Chapter 23 – Mysteries, Macaroni, and Meanings

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**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. BONES actually belongs to FOX and a host of talented people.

**A/N: Thanks go out to all the wonderful folks who Tweet and talk about this story in their reviews. If you are on Twitter, I am Skole_Bone. There are lots of great Bones fans there to chat with. There is also an Easter Egg in this chapter to another great story. If you can guess which fic you'll win your very own life-sized chocolate Booth!**

* * *

Parker Booth was sprawled on the couch in the living area of the beachside villa, still sleeping. He had been brought over by Eileen on the previous afternoon, having being told that Dr. Phil had had to give Bones some medicine to stop his brother arriving into the world too early. Upon his arrival, the younger Booth immediately and instinctively did precisely what his father wanted to do; which was to climb up onto the bed where Brennan was lightly dozing under the lingering effects of the short-acting sedative, and snuggle up next to 'Dr. Bones' in the ultimate act of physical reassurance. Seeley Booth watched his son with a mixture of amusement and amazement as he carried on a one-sided conversation with his in-utero brother, relating back his take on the situation with the delightful mixture of candid innocence and unadulterated affection that only a kid of his age could pull off.

Brennan idly toyed with the curls on top of Parker's head, with a smile on her lips as she half-listened, half-dozed. The monologue of Parker Booth included a long-winded justification of why Joey should aspire to become a die-hard fan of the Flyers, interspersed with strict instructions not to come out before Christmas, and to not kick his Mommy too hard. Parker had also announced his clear intention to stay over at their villa, in a juvenile echo of his overprotective father.

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Following their light evening meal, Brennan was more alert. The remainder of the previous evening had been mostly spent playing card games, of the non-gambling variety. The Anthropologist then told sanitised stories of some of her adventures in far-flung corners of the world. Bizarre traditions, snippets of ancient history; stories of living in a tent, a hut, or even a bedroll under the stars on the many digs that she had worked on. Some of the stories, even Booth had never heard before. When Phil had arrived, just prior to midnight, to administer a dose of antibiotics, he had found Booth and his now sleeping son on the bed with Tempe.

* * *

It was just after 7:00 a.m. when Phil Haynes returned for his promised morning house-call. Booth was already up, his short hair tufted messily, and his face sporting rough stubble as he drank coffee. Parker was still sleeping when Phil emerged from the bedroom. The distant sounds of Brennan entering the bathroom and turning on the shower filtered out into living area.

Phil sat down at the table with Booth. "She's doing well, Booth. No more scary moments overnight. Her chest sounds better, and your baby is active, meaning he's fine too. I'm going to arrange an ultrasound in Perth, just to be on the safe side. It will mean leaving here a day early with me providing a Medical escort to keep the airline happy, but I can't approve her fitness to fly back to Indonesia unless I am completely confident that Tempe is not at risk. You and Parker are welcome to stay at our home of course. We'll take you on a fifty cent tour of our home city before you all fly out."

"Thanks Phil, I appreciate everything you've done for us. Bones was up coughing a few times in the night, she took the inhaler like you told her to, and didn't really sleep that well. Whenever she settled down, the baby would start kicking again, and at first she couldn't relax. But I had it covered, " said Booth confidently.

"I'm sure you did, Booth," replied Phil. "Tempe is as highly strung as they come, my friend. Keeping her stress levels down is probably more about her own sense of control over her situation. From what I've seen so far, she's an individual who is usually firmly in control."

Booth rubbed at his rough cheek, usually he would be clean-shaven at this hour. "You've got that right, Phil. Bones is a special individual, real special."

Phil pushed back his chair and stood, clapping Booth on the back. "Okay. I'm going to help herd our brood to the breakfast table. I've told Tempe she can get up for dinner at six, providing she gets some solid sleep today. The nurse from the local nursing post is a midwife, she is going to swing by after lunch and visit to give the last dose of IV antibiotics. Then it will be a matter of completing the course with tablets that the nurse will bring along. I also suspect that Tempe's iron levels have dropped again. The tests confirming that will be back later today."

A rumble from Booths' stomach suggested that breakfast was an item close to the top of the agenda.

"Are you and Parker still coming beach fishing with _'us men'_ today?" Phil asked as he made his way out of the villa.

"Yeah. We'll see you in a couple of hours. Bones says she wants us to go. She needs to sleep in any case," said Booth who noticed that Parker was stirring from his slumber on the couch. He had time to take the small pot of tea that had been brewing on the counter in to Brennan.

.

"Hey there, Mommy-Bones!" teased Booth lightly, as he entered the bedroom armed with a teapot and a cup. "I brought you some tea…Whoa! Naked Mommy-Bones…"

"I just took a shower, Booth. I tend to do this while naked. Besides, I have my panties on already," she reasoned as if this made her practically decent, while towelling her hair dry.

"But _Parker_ is asleep just _outside_…" whispered Booth.

"Why are you whispering? Just close the door until I'm dressed," said Brennan, putting down the towel as she reached for a bottle of lotion on the bedside table. She began applying it to her arms and legs. Booth closed the door after an anxious glance over at his sleeping son, then placed her cup and teapot on a small table.

"Do you want me to pour some tea?" he asked.

"Not right now. I want you to help me with this lotion…so that I can get dressed, please" she replied.

"That is _not _a good idea."

"I disagree. It is an excellent idea. I need to apply this lotion to my torso to prevent stretch marks. You have an extra pair of hands, so we can attend to the task together in half the time."

"Bones…!" warned Booth, knowing full well her propensity to apply logic in order to place him in a compromising position.

"I could get cold without clothes on…" she countered.

"Give me the bottle…," he grumbled. He found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the visual siren call before him; pouring out a dollup of the lotion, he placed his hands upon her. "Hey! You're not cold at all."

"That is because my body temperature is slightly elevated from the infection, and I'll concede that in view of the infection, just taking a simple shower has exhausted me."

"You should take a nap while I make breakfast," he suggested, as she visibly sagged with fatigue, while he rubbed her back.

"Booth…mmm, lower please!" she requested, glancing back at him.

Y'know Bones, even when you're sick and tired, you still want me. Admit it. You do know what that means, right?" asked Booth half-teasing, as she pulled a suspiciously large T-shirt over her head and scooted back to recline on a pile of pillows.

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"It means, I want you to rub extra lotion on the stretched tissue of my abdomen, please," she replied sleepily, lifting the shirt up to expose her belly; smiling when he complied silently.

Her eyes closed, but she continued talking, one hand stealing over to rest on his thigh. "It means, that I intend to take every available opportunity to be close to you, while I can. It means… that what we have between us is tangible, viable, sustainable,… that I dare to hope, that I can try to love you as you deserve."

She yawned, feeling her eyelids drooping, her limbs weighed down with fatigue. The tea, now forgotten in favour of rest, cooled rapidly in the pot. Her focus narrowed to the large, warm, strong, but gentle hands that traversed, like tactile hypnosis over her skin. Those warm hands represented the dreams of her past; her present dreamlike reality; and would become the dreams that would carry her through what she now hoped would be their penultimate separation. The constant of their ultimate, terminal separation was entropic and inevitable; in perhaps thirty, forty, or fifty years' time.

* * *

Mountains of Macaroni Cheese was on the menu at the Haynes villa that evening. Brennan had given Eileen her now signature recipe. It was a relatively small gesture, but Booth appreciated the personalised reminder of home. He even offered to wash the pile of dishes while Brennan looked at bones with Parker.

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During their male-bonding fishing expedition, Booth had been dragged by Parker to see a small cache of what were clearly animal remains, which had been scattered by the recent storm. Parker had been insistent that he bring some of them back for Dr. Bones to see, along with some sort of petrified wood marker that had well worn carving on one side.

Sat cross-legged on the floor with Parker, Brennan made an earnest examination of the partial skull and some long bones that he had recovered and put into a plastic zip-locking _'evidence' _bag. He'd even borrowed Phil's cell-phone to take pictures of _'the scene'_ for Brennan, which she duly Bluetoothed to her laptop. She took pains to point out all the features on the skull, and explained how she would calculate approximate size and weight from measurement of long bones.

As for the petrified wood marker, it was simply a matter of doing a paper rubbing of the surface using a pencil. Parker was allocated this task and was ecstatic when he revealed the word 'Josie'.

"I believe that you may have made a positive ID, Parker," Brennan announced. Booth wiped the dishwashing suds from his hands and came over to see what Parker had been doing.

"So, team. What kind of bones did we find?" asked Booth in a tone of mock seriousness, winking at Brennan while he looked at Parker's finding.

Brennan assumed the demeanour that Booth realised that he had truly missed. "I believe that the remains are feline. Female, aged 12 to 15 years."

"So an old cat called Josie…," quipped Booth. "Any signs of foul play?"

"Photos from the scene suggest that the remains are from a disturbed burial site, likely during the recent storm. The age of the cat, and burial marker suggest this was a natural event," she replied.

"Hey! We solved the case, Parks!" Booth presented a fist, and they did a combination bump and handshake routine in celebration.

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Brennan laughed out loud. She cherished the realisation that parenting with Seeley Booth would occasionally involve letting out her own inner child to play.


	24. Promises in Preparing to Part

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 24 - Promise in Preparing to Part**

**.**

**Disclaimer: **BONES belongs to FOX. I do not own any part of it, nor do I intend to cause infringement or offence.

**A/N: I was remiss in updating last week, due to being away on business. Yup, work – it has to be done…but I wrote out my updates on the flight home ****. However, I did post an M rated one-shot called 'Wonderwall' in the interim…a little bit of fun & a lot steamier than this story… *ahem* - on with Day 7 in this universe.**

* * *

_Friday, October 15__th__, 2010 – Monkey Mia Resort, Western Australia_

Brennan had been completely correct in continuing to reiterate the fact that she was a fit and healthy woman of childbearing age. Her response to her antibiotic therapy had been rapid, with her symptoms virtually resolving within 36 hours, to the point where bantering and teasing had returned to feature heavily in her interactions with Booth. This placed his worried mind at ease more than he cared to admit.

Hence, Booth had slept soundly for the first time since leaving Afghanistan; the cumulative effect of stress, time zone changes, and a large carb loading from the Mac 'n' Cheese dinner of the night before, had sapped his will to stay awake past ten o'clock. After being led by Brennan back to their bed for the night, he barely had the energy to brush his teeth and crawl into bed. She had chuckled at his foot dragging journey up the pathway to their villa, and been highly amused at his half-whiny grumbling as he clattered through his ablutions in the bathroom; it was almost a repeat performance of the behaviour that she had observed as she coaxed Parker to his own bed, only an hour previously. The last thing Booth recalled from the previous night was the mattress dipping beside him, followed by a warm, long-limbed body wrapping around his own, and feather-light kisses carrying him into the oblivion of sleep.

* * *

Seeley Booth awoke slightly later than his usual habit. The golden sunlight, hailing the dawn of his seventh day in Monkey Mia, flooded the room. Last night, they had been so exhausted that the blinds had been forgotten, and left open. Rolling over in bed, he found the space beside him empty and wondered what Bones was up to. Extracting himself from the tangle of bedclothes, Booth padded out barefooted and bare-chested to the main living area, discovering the holiday villa deserted. A half-full water glass on the kitchen counter stood in evidence; she had passed through here, and recently, judging by the condensation on the glass. Peering out through the large glass doors, he noted that the hammock was empty, but spied the bright dawn sunlight reflecting off the back of an individual who was sat on the white sandy beach. The Western sky out to sea was still bruised at the horizon line as the last vestiges of night were dragged away by the rotation of the Earth. He could see dolphins frolicking in the shallows; she would be watching them, of course.

Booth pulled a singlet, left slung over the back of the couch, and dragged the white cotton over his head. On second thoughts, he grabbed a hooded zip-up fleece jacket, the weather was mild here, but still a little chilly in the mornings. He had decided to join her on the beach; not because of the dolphins, or her solitude, or his desire to just be there beside her in her deceptively peaceful pose. She was wearing his camouflage jacket. They hadn't really spoken of their coming separation, given the distractions and dramas of the past couple of days, but it loomed ominously over them both. Like always, he wanted to be there with her to work through it, to find the solution together. It was what they did.

.

* * *

Approaching the spot where she sat, he could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her toes were worrying the sand in frustration, belying the outward calm of sitting on the beach with knees raised, and arms resting over patellas. She was watching four dolphins playing some kind of aquatic tag, zipping in and out of the shallows.

"Mornin' Bones!" he quipped brightly.

She looked down at her sand-encrusted toes and swiped at her face with the sleeve of his camouflage jacket. "Hi," she managed.

Booth held out a hand to her. "C'mon, get up. I want to say _'G'day' _to the dolphins, and I need you to protect me from any of them that decide to get frisky with me."

Brennan laughed at the thought. "I've got your back, Booth. But who is going to protect _me_ from that awful attempt at an Australian accent?"

She poked her hand out of the excess material of the oversized jacket and extended her arm to meet his. Locking into a wrist-grip, she was pulled up from her seat on the sand and into a warm standing embrace. Her belly and breasts made contact with his warm torso, which was fortunately exposed by the unzipped hoodie. The fingers of his hands brushed her hair back from her face and returned to lightly stroke over her jawline. Their eyes met, as they so often had over the years, speaking volumes that they had really only just begun to express; not just desire and attraction, but kinship, respect, acknowledgement of similarities, and of differences.

"No more accents, I promise," he said, as her hands found their way around his torso. "Mornin' Bones," he repeated in a murmur, close to her lips.

"Hi," she repeated, truncating the conversation by pushing her lips against his, using the tip of her tongue subtly to ask for more. Seeley Booth was a generous man, and seeing as she'd asked so nicely, he changed the intensity and intent of his _'good morning' _kiss into something that Angela Montenegro would most definitely classify as foreplay. Only the fact that they had been asked to abstain from intercourse until after the ultrasound on Monday stopped them from going any further than a little heavy petting on the beach. Her moan into his mouth was two parts pleasure, one part regret. The chittering calls and high pitched squeals of the dolphins made Booth smile mid-kiss, which broke the spell of the moment.

"Did I do something to amuse you?" asked Brennan, pulling back from their embrace and temporarily out of reach of his hands.

He pulled her back into his warm body with a laugh, wrapping his arms around her shoulders with a reassuring squeeze. "No. Not you. The dolphins," he explained. "It was almost as if they were, y'know, telling us to _get a room_."

She cocked her head, trying to process the explanation. "You were distracted by the dolphins, imagining that they were making comments? Innuendos? You do know that humans can't comprehend the complexities of dolphin language? Much of their communication is non-verbal…"

Booth interrupted. "Yeah, let's stick with non-verbal for a while," ducking his head down to steal possession over her noises of protestation, which returned to his preferred soundtrack of her pleasure; the album that was staying at 'number one' on his charts. He loved those small noises that accompanied the dance between their lips and tongues; they sent burning signal flares that lit his arousal like a sexual napalm strike to his groin.

.

The dolphins began a cacophony of chittering and chattering. This time, it was Brennan who smiled into their kiss and broke the moment. They looked at the four dolphins poking above the waterline in the calm shallows, grey heads nodding and making splashes.

"Your imagination is infectious Booth. Let's go and say hello to them," said Brennan. They broke their embrace and she led him by the hand into the water until they were knee deep, with small wavelets lapping at their thighs. Members of their dolphin audience were swimming around happily, and came nudging around the couple.

"You're really popular with them, Bones. Almost as if they know how much you like to be around them," commented Booth, watching one of the dolphins who looked suspiciously like the perpetrator-porpoise of the ass-whacking incident a few days previously.

She looked thoughtful as she absently patted the beak-like nose of yet another attention-seeker. "The Park Ranger informed me that they have a preference for interactions with children and pregnant women. I suppose that it fortuitous that you succeeded in impregnating me."

Booth snorted and flicked a few drops of water at Brennan playfully, getting a nudge from the porpoise he was privately calling 'Ass-whack', who had chosen this very moment to be going all 'Alpha-dolphin' on him. "Right, Temperance...and you had _nothing_ to do with it? As I recall it, you were there too, doing all that _'succeeding'_ with me."

She grinned and flicked some water back at him. "Your recall is accurate in that respect, Booth. But according to my recollection, we actually took precautions to prevent an unplanned pregnancy. In retrospect, I deduced that I had been at my time of peak fertility, hormonally receptive, and additional precautions would have been advisable."

"Wait. Are you saying that my super-swimmers couldn't be contained by _'mortal means'_?" Booth chuckled, enjoying the surge of alpha male pride at his virility.

She ignored the hyperbole and rolled her eyes at his alpha male delight. "Although I had previously expressed my desire to have a child with you, I hadn't planned on entering a sexual relationship with you. I thought that we would be going our separate ways for a year…it was all very…"

"Spontaneous?" he suggested. "Answer me something honestly, Bones. 'Cause I need to know before I go back to Afghanistan. Do regret what we did? You, me, this baby?"

Her response was rapid and confident, her mood changing quicksilver to super-serious. "Absolutely not! And Booth, you know I don't lie. I refuse to regret something that has given me the opportunity to experience life, new life, to discover what love really means…"

He saw the tears brimming and the dolphins taking a wider berth as her gaze became icy and defensive. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her into a rough embrace, the sea water splashing over his boxer shorts, shockingly cold as it soaked through the thin cotton. He felt like a complete bastard for making her cry, for assuming that she would stand up and defend her position until he backed down, or they agreed to disagree, as they always had. God knows, he'd listened to enough expectant fathers in his unit talk about pregnancy meltdowns; over bring home the wrong brand of yoghurt from the market, or over the top reactions to a plot twist on their favourite TV show.

"I'm sorry, baby…Oomph!" he began, as she punched him in the short ribs mid-sniffle for using the 'b' word. "I'm worried about you, is all! Hell, I'm worried about me…" he admitted.

She shifted her stance against the shifting sand beneath her feet and fixed Booth with a serious gaze. "I don't want to waste our time together debating the merits of our actions and dwelling upon our past decisions. It isn't rational."

"You're absolutely right, Bones…, or should I call you 'Booth'?" he asked with a grin, taking her hand and leading her out of the shallows and back onto the beach.

"Of course, I'm right!" she replied, then paused to consider his question. "Why would you call me 'Booth', Booth?"

"Do you want to be called 'Booth'?" he teased, bumping her shoulder as they made their way back toward the villa.

"You just answered a question with a question, but without defining any kind of framework for a Socratic logical test. Clearly, I am missing your point. Unless is this is some sort of impulsive marriage proposal?" she asked, taking an uncharacteristic leap at an answer.

"No, Bones. If that were the case, I would have prepared a ring, flowers, and gotten down on one knee. Just so you know…," he quipped.

She gave a derisive snort. "I _am_ an Anthropologist, and as such, possess an in depth knowledge of ancient and modern rituals."

Booth gave a sigh as they stopped outside their door and began to brush the sand off their feet. "Actually, I was referring to the fact that you're wearing my jacket, Bones."

He turned and ran his finger along the block printed tape that ran along the breast of the jacket, spelling his surname.

She gave a grin. "It's a serviceable jacket, Booth. I could use something like this in Maluku. Will you get in trouble if I keep it?"

"Yup," he replied. "Besides, it's too big for you."

"In case you hadn't noticed, I plan to become much larger in the near future. I'll pay whatever fine the Army imposes…," she offered, with a small pout.

He leaned in and pecked a kiss on her pout. "How about, you come inside with me, lie down on our bed, and have a pre-breakfast snooze. We have a big day ahead of us, thanks to you and Eileen organising our Aboriginal culture immersion tours today."

"The tours are going to be fascinating, Booth. Hopefully, Parker will learn to discount folklore myths like Drop-Bears and have something educational to take back to his school class next week. The traditional owners of this area are the Nhanda and Malgana people, they have thousands of years of history in this region." Brennan would have continued her ramblings, but he steered her toward the bed and helped her to remove the coveted jacket.

* * *

Following a day of exploration through the cultural perspective of the local Aboriginal culture, and an afternoon of kayaking for the energetic youth at Monkey Mia; the two families spent their evening at a traditional _Gunurra_, or camp. Their indigenous guides played traditional musical instruments, including the didgeridoo, which was a long, thin hollowed log that produced an amazing array of weird and wonderful sounds, much to Parker's delight. The division between male and female roles in their culture were well defined. Women were not permitted to even touch a didgeridoo. Brennan and Eileen were engrossed in process of cooking traditional damper bread on the hot stones beside the fire, and discussing the merits of a 'bush tucker' diet.

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Booth returned laughing from a disastrous attempt to master the didgeridoo over on the other side of the camp. He was handed a slab of hot damper bread and tossed it between his hands until it cooled a little, before tearing off a piece for Parker to try. The boy was happy to try 'bush tucker' that was not an insect, or a grub, or pulled off a tree. Following an experimental nibble, he gave a wide smile of approval and began to devour the bread with mini-Boothy sounds of contentment.

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Eileen and Brennan were involved in an earnest conversation with one of the guides about aspects of Aboriginal culture. Booth sat down on the red sand and listened in as he ate the rest of his damper roll in a more contained echo of his son.

The Anthropologists were discussing the gender related roles in traditional Aboriginal society and some of the more confusing aspects of family references. Referring to sisters, brothers, aunties and uncles, actually included a much wider range of relatives than Booth could get his head around. Traditional marriage arrangements were made often before children were born and were often done to secure relationships between communities and neighbouring rivals. Parker came over to sprawl across Booth's lap as the conversation went on and mugs of 'billy tea' were passed around. When the guide began to tell Brennan about 'Mother-in-Law' language, Booth thought that this was another episode of Aussies taking the piss, but Eileen confirmed that there were only certain things traditionally that a man could say to his Mother-in-Law, and in some cases, they would avoid speaking to each other at all costs.

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The guide asked Parker if he wanted to see the kangaroos and possums that were hanging around the perimeter of the camp. Booth was interested too, so they both wandered over to the other side of the camp, where the guide showed them the animal tracks and droppings. Then he pointed out the bushes that the kangaroos liked to eat. Sure enough, they found a half-dozen small wallabies lazing in a small clearing, completely unperturbed by the humans present. Parker was fascinated by the Joey that he could see poking out of a pouch, and went on to explain to the amused guide the charming story of how his baby brother came to be called Joey. They began wandering back to the glow of the campfire where the didgeridoo amateur hour was now over, and clearly, someone competent was now playing the instrument. Their guide identified each of the musical noises as an animal, or sound from the land.

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Booth looked over to where Eileen and Brennan were sat. When their eyes met, Brennan stood up, brushed herself off, and just looked at him with a hint of a smile. Assuming a poise that Booth always associated with her intent to tackle new remains at a crime scene, she walked purposefully across the clearing, skirting the campfire, which provided an ochre and gold glow over her progress.

The guide nudged Booth. "Hey, Mister. That's your Anthropologist lady isn't it?"

Booth nodded, unable to take his eyes off her now hypnotic stroll toward him. "Sure is, buddy. But don't let her hear you say that she belongs to me, or anybody else, because the lady will kick your ass."

"Oh, she's yours alright, fella. What your lady is doing right now is traditional in these parts. She's walking across the camp for you."

"I don't know what that means, pal," replied Booth as Brennan continued her stroll, now silhouetted by the campfire behind her.

The guide gave a raucous chuckle. "Ah, but your lady does, we were talkin' about it before. When a woman walks across the camp for you, you're as good as married around here, brother. Mazel tov!"

"Mazel tov?" said an incredulous Booth at the odd turn of phrase from the Aboriginal guide in the middle of the Australian Outback.

"Yeah, y'know, it's like 'congratulations', or something. I saw it on one of your Yankie TV shows once," explained the guide.

"Right…," mused Booth, as he took a couple of steps forward to meet her. She looked him up and down appraisingly, and then moved in as close as her growing belly would permit.

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His arms slipped around her waist. "Did you see something you like, Temperance?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied decisively.

Booth was unsure how far to take this, but took a breath and spoke anyway. "You didn't have to walk across the camp for me. I could have come over to you…"

"I know."

"Our guide told me what it means, Bones."

"I am aware of the significance of the act in this traditional Indigenous culture, Booth." She ran a hand over the rough planes of his face, which the firelight made even more chiselled. "It is a simple custom, embedded in millennia of history. I know it holds no legal weight or modern social reference. Just call it a token of my commitment, something to see us through the months until we meet up in D.C. next May."

The Aboriginal guide cackled and perforrmed an impromptu jig, interspersed with the occasional exclamation of 'Mazel tov'. Parker Booth laughed until his sides hurt.

* * *

**Post A/N: Mazel tov! It is probably somewhat OOC...but it's fanfic, right? With the S6 Premiere in a mere couple of days, I just needed to get a little fluff in here. If anyone reading does know the penalty for losing an army camoflage jacket, can you let me know please :) **


	25. Rings and Ripe Recollections

The Progeny in the Parting

**Chapter 25 - Rings and Ripe Recollections**

**Disclaimer:** I have no claim to any manner of BONES fame. The coincidental mention of a Babymoon & George Clooney in 6x02 made me LOL though! Now all we need is Hodgins in gold hotpants for the fanfic coinkidink trifecta.

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**A/N: I solemnly swear to update more regularly. I was in hospital last week & my muse got high on pain meds...which was kind of creepy & not very productive. Thanks for all the reviews and messages, particularly jsiebert *hugs***

* * *

Saturday, October 16th, 2010 - Monkey Mia, Australia

A Saturday morning game of beach football had gotten underway, attracting locals and visitors alike for some friendly competition and some beachside fun. Given the International make up of the assembled players, the two dozen boys and men on the beach had first embarked upon a lively discussion over which rules would be applied to the game. The group settled into a rough consensus which covered American, English, Gaelic, and Australian football codes.

Half the group removed their shirts, in the thankfully pleasant 80 degree warmth of mid-morning. Brennan, watching from a hammock on the sidelines with a journal lying forgotten over her belly, was inordinately pleased to see that Booth had removed his shirt to join the 'skins' team. Glancing over at the patio next door she saw Ella Haynes setting up a professional-looking camera and taking some light readings. Brennan smiled and waved at her, receiving a shy wave in response. Turning her attention back to the testosterone soaked shenanigans on the beach, she spent some idle, but well justified time, watching the athletic form of Seeley Booth running up and down the sandy beach, laughing and grinning. In a couple of days he would be heading back to a war zone, and it was a pleasant diversion for him to spend some time unfettered by the weight of his worries.

.

She also was enjoying the visual diversion from her own thoughts of leaving this idyllic place tomorrow. Reflecting on the circumstances that had brought them together in a spontaneous and passionate flashpoint, all those months ago in D.C., and the changes that they had both had to face in response to the ensuing consequences, she surmised that reality had caught up with her in a big way. The growing evidence of that reality gave an enthusiastic kick of agreement. She gave her growing belly a fond caress and yawned, musing that her physical condition made her feel amazingly energetic in one moment, and incredibly sleepy the next. She closed her eyes, smiling at the sounds of laughter and games against the metronomic wash of waves hitting the beach. The rocking hammock stole her remaining resistance and dragged her off to the world of dreams...

* * *

_Brennan awoke with a start, in a strange environment and took a moment to re-orient herself. She had been here before; it was a familiar place. She was on a boat, that much was evident. The briny scent of the ocean, the slight salty tang to the zephyr of air coming through the open porthole, the rocking of her environment as it rode the gentle swell._

_'Mommy! Daddy says it's time for you to tuck us in!' piped a small voice next her ear. _

_Brennan looked to her left, into the cherubic, grinning face of a child of perhaps four years of age. The facial structure of this pretty child, with her strawberry blond hair and bright blue eyes, conclusively identified that this was her own child. She reached out to cup the face of the child, her child, with a smile._

_'Hi there,' said Brennan to the little girl. 'Was I asleep?' _

_'Yes,' replied_ _the child, in a decisive manner reminiscent of Dr. Temperance Brennan. 'But Daddy says that growing our new brother gets you all tired, and not to wake you up. I 'm really glad that you're awake now, Mommy!'_ _She threw her arms around Brennan's neck and planted a smoochy kiss on her cheek. Brennan chuckled and hugged the girl back._

_'Mommy?' came another small voice from the adjoining room._

_The angelic girl rolled her eyes, Brennan-style and gave a melodramatic sigh in the manner of young girls her age._

_'I told Ethan that he had to stay in bed, and I came to get you. Daddy just put his clean jammies on. You know how quickly two year olds get dirty!' confided the feisty youngster conspiratorially._

_'I suppose that we shouldn't keep Ethan waiting then,' surmised Brennan as she turned over to get off the low bed. She saw the wood panelled wall next to her bed was covered with kids artwork, and photos of her with this beautiful girl and a small boy who resembled Russ Brennan strongly. A small portion of her brain reeled. She had two children? She looked down at her round belly, there was a third child on the way?_

_A small hand was pulling insistently at her own, distracting her from her attempt to reconcile her reality. She smiled at the young girl and permitted herself to be led through to the next room, where the small boy from the photograph was bouncing impatiently on the handmade quilt that overlaid the sofa bed, which he was clearly going to have to share with his unamused sister tonight._

_"You shouldn't jump on that Ethan!' warned Brennan. "The bulkhead above this bed is very low. You could hurt yourself..."_

_The little boy gave a rebellious pout, which clearly named this child as being from Brennan genetic stock. It didn't last long, Ethan broke into a happy smile and bounced into her arms. 'Mommy!' _

_'Everything okay down there?' came a muffled voice from the deck._

_'Yes, Daddy!' chimed the young girl. 'Mommy is awake.'_

_'About time, too!' quipped the voice from above._

_'Yes, I am awake, Booth. And with a third child on the way, I still find it hard to believe that we are not on a bigger boat right now!" she retorted, grappling with the wiggling, giggling toddler in her arms._

_The sound of hearty male laughter rang out, then cut off suddenly. Brennan heard bare feet slapping across the wooden deck and the sound of the hatch being slid back, letting in the orange light of sunset. A pair of legs descended the stairs._

_'Are you okay, Tempe? Did you just call me...Booth?'_

_Brennan looked at the man now stood in front of her._

_'Sully...?'_

* * *

She awoke, breathing rapidly and mildly disorientated, to the concerned face of Dr. Phil Haynes, as bright noon sunlight assaulted her retinas.

"Are you okay, Tempe?" he asked.

"Yes. Yes, it was just a dream," she replied. More as a reassurance for her still hammering heart and yammering brain, than to tell Phil what he already knew.

"That was some dream," said Phil. "You almost rolled out of the hammock, Tempe. Your eyes were wide open. You called me Booth, then you called me...Scully?"

"No. It was Sully," she corrected automatically.

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"Sully? Where?" said Booth, who had stealthily arrived behind Phil to catch the end of the exchange.

"Tempe just had a bad dream, Booth," explained Phil. "She was thrashing around a little in the hammock, we thought she might fall out."

Brennan gave a sheepish shrug. "I can't explain it, Booth. The dream was completely bizarre and totally irrational."

Phil gave a wave of his hand indicating he was heading back to the game. Booth held out his hand to Brennan, to assist her out of the hammock.

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"C'mon. Let's go inside for a little bit. I need to freshen up before lunch, all that running around has left me smelling a little ripe," said Booth.

Brennan made a show of sniffing at his bare chest as she stood. "Well, I wan't going to say anything,...but you do need a shower."

Booth gave a light slap to her ass, as she moved into the cooler interior of the holiday villa.

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"So, you dreamt about Sully, huh? That's a blast from the past!" Booth said in a light tone.

"I haven't thought of him in a very long time. The dream was very confronting. I was on his boat with two small children, and pregnant. There wasn't enough room for us all. I thought that I was on the boat with you, Booth. I called out your name...and Sully came down the stairs." She gave a small shiver at the memory of her shock. "I find it hard to believe that I would have chosen such a life for myself, even if I had taken a sabbatical and sailed away for a year...I chose to stay...the life I had, with my work...and you, was the right decision."

"It's just a dream, but, wow! Where is Sweets when you need a dream interpretation?" he said with a grin as he instigated the classic guy hug. "We could call him, Bones. It's only 2 a.m. In D.C., but what the hell..."

Brennan gave a guffaw of laughter. "While I imagine that Doctor Sweets would be happy to be consulted by us at any hour; when he discovers that I am actually pregnant, with your child, he would probably be rendered incapable of speech."

"The rest of the world is going to find out eventually. When they do, I'm hoping that our baby will be there playing interference for us, using his cute baby charm to deflect all the tough questions," said Booth.

"I'm not sure that strategic use of an infant to avoid difficult questions is entirely ethical," she said, greatly amused.

"Are you kidding? What do you think is gonna stop your old man from taking a shot at me, huh?" he asked.

"I'll concede that you may have a point there, Booth," she replied, thinking of Max, deciding to write another letter to her father. She sniffed at a still warm and sweaty Seeley Booth. "You really should go and take that shower, Booth."

.

* * *

With warm water cascading over his head, Booth added a dollop of shampoo to his scalp and began massaging vigorously, then jumped almost a foot into the air as a pair of hands slipped around his waist from behind.

"Geez, Bones! Warn a guy before you go all 'Psycho' in the shower on him, will ya?" he complained.

"I am not 'Psycho', Booth. In fact, I am of sound mind, and specific intent," she announced. Giving specific details of that intent with her hands, as she squeezed herself between him and the tiled shower wall.

"Hey! Woah! We're on a 'no sex' restriction here, remember?" he gasped as her hands encouraged his body to betray the integrity of his words.

"The order is for no sexual intercourse, which provides plenty of scope for other sexual activity. I am feeling particularly invigorated after my nap...," she said by way of explanation as she pulled his still soapy head down for a kiss.

.

"Have I told you lately, that you are insatiable, Temperance Brennan?" he asked, pushing her back against the tiles slowly.

"No. But I'm glad you noticed," she replied, cutting off the small talk in short order.

* * *

Later that afternoon, a cleaner and satiated couple took Parker up to a local craft fair that was being run that weekend, so that he could buy some gifts and souvenirs to take back home with him. Even though the Monkey Mia township was isolated and sparsely populated, they were surprised to find that some stall holders and regional artists had travelled hundreds of miles to attend the weekend event.

Brennan made a beeline for the stalls selling handmade earrings and necklaces, suggesting that she could help Parker select a gift for his Mom. Booth gave a small groan, as Brennan began an animated rhapsody over the unusual array of jewellery available.

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"You're buying more for yourself too, Bones?" asked Booth. "Don't you have like 20,000 chunky necklaces and earrings already?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Not that many, Booth! But I make a point of purchasing them whenever I travel. They serve as a kind of souvenir that I can continue to enjoy when I return home again."

"Why don't you buy some rings, or something different, Bones?"

"My line of work precludes the wearing of excessive finger jewellery. Excepting my Mother's ring, of course." She perused the rings on display and asked the artist to show her a tray. "Ooh! Angela would love one of these. I'll have to try it!" She tried on a series of bohemian rings that were ostentatious enough to decorate the phalanges of her artistic BFF.

"That one is pretty!" commented Booth, looking at a rather tasteful and unusual ring that had a complex motif of tiny dolphins running around the woven metal band.

The stall holder nodded. "It suits your hand beautifully," she commented.

"I agree. But I am looking for a ring for my friend," said Brennan with her typical laser focus on the task at hand. The stall holder shrugged and looked up at Booth, who cleared his throat and suggested that the stall holder show Parker a couple of items for his Mom, drawing the boy to the opposite end of the stall.

Booth fixed the stall holder with a direct stare. "How much for the ring?" he muttered in a low voice.

"Not cheap, my friend. It's Kimberley gold and platinum, handmade, and original."

"I'm interested. So name your price," mumbled Booth behind his hand, as he feigned interest in something that Parker had pointed out to the stall holder.

The woman wrote the price on a post-it note and passed it to Booth. The price was high, but not as bad as he had expected for a custom made item. Parker announced that he had made a selection for his Mom, calling over Brennan to take a look, and Booth handed over his credit card with a nod and a wink to the stall holder.

Brennan came over with a dozen pieces of jewellery draped over her fingers and wrists. she looked at what Parker had chosen as a gift for Rebecca and smiled at him.

"You have excellent taste, Parker. This necklace will suit your Mom perfectly!" She handed over her own purchases to the the stall holder along with the credit card, who glanced at the name on the card and gave a gasp.

"Are you 'The' Temperance Brennan, the author?" asked the stall holder, holding up the card that Brennan had handed over.

"Yes, I am," replied Brennan, with a small smile directed at Booth, who rolled his eyes at the extent of her fandom. He placed a protective arm around Brennan's shoulder, knowing some of her fans could be kooky.

"Oh my God! I can't believe it!" said the woman.

"I have other forms of identification, if you wish to verify my credit card," said Brennan, missing the point.

"No, no! I recognise you now, of course. I am a big fan of your books. I just never expected to meet you all the way out here, in the middle of nowhere!" explained the star struck woman. "I'll just process the payment for this gentleman here, your...Oh my God! Is this who you based Agent Andy on? It has to be!"

Brennan laughed out loud at that comment, placing a hand over her belly, and bumping playfully into Booth's torso. "I won't even give him the answer to that question, and he knows me better than anyone."

"May I ask when your baby is due? Your official website mentioned that you were on a sabbatical...but nothing about a baby!" said the stall holder.

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Brennan gave a smug grin, imagining how her agent and publisher would react to not being informed of her impending parenthood. It wasn't stipulated in any contract, of course, but it irked her when they pried into her business.

"That would be because I _am_ on a sabbatical, and I coincidentally, just happen to be pregnant. My publisher is not yet aware of this. I would appreciate it if you would refrain from making this knowledge public, until after he is born in February," asked Brennan earnestly.

"Oh, it's a private matter, I would never dream of it!" insisted the stall holder, as she handed Booth his credit card and receipt with a small paper carry bag. Booth glanced at the receipt and raised his eyebrows at the hefty discount that appeared on the receipt. The woman behind the stall gave him a wink and a warm smile.

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All that Booth had to figure out now, was a way to give Bones the ring without getting his ass kicked all the way back to Afghanistan.


	26. Meltdown & Magical, Mesmerising Memories

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 26 – Meltdown, and Magical, Mesmerising Memories**

**.**

**Disclaimer:** If I owned BONES, it would be a fig-free zone...just sayin'

**A/N: Warning, this chapter is longer than usual. Clearly, there is much to write about at this point in the story! Plus, hopefully it makes up for my slower updates. I'm looking forward to Summer Down Under, when I will have more time. The next chapter is going to be a more angsty au revoir, so I thought I'd deliver something a little light and fluffy in this chapter. I'd like to again thank everyone who is reading and reviewing. Enjoy and feel free to review on your way out...**

* * *

Parker Booth gave a chortle of delight as the wild dolphin took the fish he held suspended out in front of him. The Park Ranger gave the boy words of encouragement and told him to take another fish from the bucket to give to his new dolphin BFF. Parker looked around to his father, stood a few feet behind him, with a massive grin on his face.

Brennan made a satisfied sound as she captured the moment on her digital camera. "I would recommend sending this photo to Rebecca, Booth. The camera caught the moment perfectly!"

A second chortle could be heard as a second fish disappeared into the smiley mouth of the dolphin. Moments later, a grinning Parker splashed his way back toward them.

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"Did you see, Dad?" asked the excited boy. He'd finally been selected from the crowd to feed the dolphins. It was fortuitous, because they were boarding a plane to leave Monkey Mia in mere hours.

"Yeah, I sure did, Bub! How awesome was that?" replied his father.

"It was totally awesome! Dad, I want be a dolphin trainer when I grow up" proclaimed the boy, still grinning from ear to ear.

"Perhaps your father can arrange for you to visit the Aquarium in D.C., Marine Biology is an excellent career choice. Would you like to see the photos that I took of you with the dolphin, Parker?" asked Brennan, holding out the camera. The three of them huddled around the small LCD screen as she scrolled back through the images. After reviewing a dozen images punctuated with chuckles and exclamations from the Booth boys, she paused as an image showed up on the display, and looked at Booth suspiciously. "Did you take this photo of me? She asked him with eyebrows raised.

"Um, I think I'm gonna take the Fifth, Bones," he replied evasively. Parker, sensing that is was turning into a boring grown-up conversation, took off back up the beach to where a 'morning tea' was being held on the patio of the Haynes family beach villa. Parker had discovered an Australian delicacy called a Lamington, which consisted of a palm-sized cube of a light sponge cake, dipped in thick chocolate syrup, then coated in desiccated coconut. Today, the younger Booth fully intended attempting to break his standing gastronomic record of three of the cakes in one sitting.

.

Brennan placed her hands on her hips. "You cannot validly plead the Fifth Amendment, you're in Australia, which has a democratic legal system based upon an entirely different constitution," she countered.

Booth rolled his eyes and tried to look innocent, but ruined it with a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. "Well, whoever did take that photo of you should be proud. I can't say that I've ever seen you looking so relaxed. Can I get a copy?"

"Booth!" she chastised. "I was asleep...in a hammock, and the camera angle has me looking like I've smuggled a watermelon under my shirt! I am going to delete the image..."

The camera was snatched out of her hands. "Nuh uh uh, I hereby confiscate the memory card from this device, as evidence that Dr. Temperance Brennan has, for once in her life, actually taken a relaxing vacation...no ancient remains, no digging in the dirt, no icky decomp, no fossil bones..."

She gave a moue of amusement as she considered her next move. "Would you be willing to negotiate for the rights to the image?" she asked, in a tone that said the negotiations would be private. Very private.

Booth laughed, slinging an arm around her waist as they sloshed their way out of the shallows to attend the morning tea. She stopped him as they reached the hard damp sand of the beach, turning to bring her body flush against his before standing on tip toes to engage his mouth with a kiss. There was an assertiveness in her kiss, as she silently demanded fuller access to him with her tongue, this was a negotiation after all. He responded with an aggressive counteroffer, pulling her closer and using his height to lean in over her, forcing her heels back into the sand. Their time together was dwindling away, so instinctively, they clung more fiercely to what they had...were having...would have. A cool gust of wind blew off the ocean, effectively shattering their canoodling cocoon.

"I really, really, like negotiating with you, Temperance," breathed Booth as he reluctantly relinquished a reactive compulsion to crush her body against his, and never let go.

"You are also an excellent negotiator. The photo is yours. When we do return home, Booth, I will no doubt find myself eager to negotiate all manner of things with you," she stated, with a wry smile touching lips that were now slightly pink from the friction of negotiation.

"Thanks. Why is it that when my ears hear you say 'negotiate', my brain hears 'sex'?" he asked.

"Probably because you're a male with a healthy libido, and possibly because that was the intent underlying my statement," she quipped, looping her arm through his as they began walking toward where Parker was already tucking into his third Lamington.

.

* * *

With the last of the packing done, and final checks for missed items conducted, the group piled in to the mini-bus that would take them on the five kilometer trip to the airport. The small aircraft was refuelling when they arrived, so they had to wait a few minutes in an outdoor shaded waiting area. Parker and the two Haynes boys made a beeline for the far end of the structure and began swinging like monkeys, complete with chimp impersonations, on the metal bar-work of the structure.

Brennan smiled at their juvenile antics. "I hope that Parker doesn't vomit, he ate almost four of those cakes a couple of hours ago," she remarked to Booth.

"Eh, he'll be fine, Bones, he's a kid y'know," he replied, placing an arm around her and giving her belly a rub. "Before you know it, this little guy will be joining in with Parker's antics."

"That is a least two years from now, Booth! Joey will be a dependent infant for some time. I will be responsible for keeping him, clean, adequately clothed, physically and emotionally nurtured, providing milk sustenance by breastfeeding..."

Booth gave a frown and interrupted. "Hey, that would be _'we'_, not just you, I can do all that stuff too...except the whole breastfeeding thing."

"No doubt that will be the case after we return to D.C., but I will have to undertake this task by myself for the first three months. Eileen has indicated that she will mentor me. As a woman with five children, who have all successfully survived infancy, she is an excellent candidate for this role. Anthropologically speaking, older, more experienced mothers around a new mother provide guidance, support and assistance when a child is born into a community. Eileen will be taking on this role, although in many societies, it is commonly taken on by the mother of the new mother." Brennan paused and suppressed a sob, suddenly overwhelmed by a hormonally fuelled rush of sadness. She threw herself against Booth's chest as he stood stunned at the mercurial shift in her emotions. "I miss my Mom," she said around a series of shuddering sobs into his chest.

Booth wrapped up the hormonally-challenged genius in the guy hug to end all guy hugs. "Oh, Bones, baby. Please don't cry. It's gonna be okay..."

She was so caught up in the moment of emotional maelstrom that even the annoying use of the epithet _'baby'_ slipped by. Feeling another warm hand on her shoulder, Brennan sniffed and lifted her head from Booth's chest. Eileen Haynes had witnessed this particular brand of meltdown in Maluku more than once, she mouthed the word _'Mom'_ at Booth, questioningly. He gave an almost imperceptible nod at the older Anthropologist in confirmation. People waiting to get on the aircraft were picking up their cabin baggage and preparing to move.

"Booth, Tempe, sorry to interrupt, but we need to get the kids on to the aircraft. Phil is on the phone to the hospital in Perth, could you be a sweetheart and round up the boys for me Booth?" asked Eileen with a wink.

"Sure thing, Eileen," he replied, brushing the hair back from Brennan's face and kissing her forehead. "I'm gonna play kid wrangler, okay?" Brennan nodded mutely, still sniffling as she let go of Booth.

Brennan glanced at her colleague. "Curse these hormones, Eileen. I am unaccustomed to meltdowns. Thinking about my Mom triggers the worst of them."

"I know. We've been here before Tempe", replied Eileen who opened her arms. "Come get a hug from your surrogate Mom. You know you'll feel better, kiddo."

It wasn't Ruth Keenan. Brennan knew that. But a couple of minutes of a maternal hug and soothing words from a kind surrogate, did in fact make her feel better.

* * *

Ten minutes later, the aircraft was fully loaded and just waiting for Phil Haynes to finish his call to the hospital. After he finished his call he ran up the stairs and took his seat across the aisle from Booth.

"Flying Doctor Service on the phone," commented Phil, by way of explanation. "They're flying down a patient from Geraldton, Eileen. Looks like I'll be doing a C-Section tonight."

"Tonight, Phil? Can't your locum cover do the procedure?" asked Eileen.

"Aw, I'll be home for dinner," quipped her husband. "Besides, it's Mindy. Her old pelvic fractures have made things tricky in the past."

Eileen harrumphed good-naturedly, and gave a smile. "Mindy? Oh, well that's a different matter."

"What kind of pelvic fractures are involved?" asked Brennan.

"Open book fracture of the pelvis about ten years ago. This is her third, and hopefully last pregnancy. I'm dreading the internal adhesions from the last C-section," replied Phil.

"Motorcycle accident?" asked Brennan.

"Yup, dead on," replied Phil glancing up at the flight steward who was commencing the safety demonstration. The aircraft had begun taxi-ing to the far end of the airstrip.

"How'd you know that?" asked Booth of Brennan, immediately regretting the question as she replied with an epic eye roll.

"Open book fractures of the pelvis commonly are associated with trauma inflicted by the gas tank of a motorcycle impacting the pelvic girdle in an accident," replied Brennan. Making a model of a pelvic girdle with her hands, she explained the injury further. "The force of the impact breaks the diastasis of the symphysis pubis, in the groin region," she said, pulling her thumbs away from each other, making Booth wince internally. "Then depending on the directionality of the force, fractures through the stronger posterior bony structures, such as the ilia or sacral vertebrae, cause the the pelvis to literally split in half, laying it open, like an _open book_," she said, splitting her fingers apart and laying her hands open.

"Ugh! Bones!" replied Booth, resisting the urge to cup his manhood in empathy, placing his hands flat on his thighs instead. "That sounds really, really painful."

"I'm sure that it is. Thankfully, I have no personal experience with pelvic trauma. I understand that males additionally suffer massive soft tissue to the genitals, which is reportedly excruciating painful. Add to that the risk of impotence from damage to the pudendal nerves running through the sacral region..."

Booth groaned, visibly wincing. "Okay, okay, I get it. Motorcycle versus man bits equals bad news. Can we change the subject?"

.

Everyone was quiet for a few minutes as the noise of the jet props drowned out conversation. Brennan absently placed a hand over the child in utero that had decided raise a kickboxing frenzy in response to her being settled in a seat. Booth glanced sideways and grabbed the hand that had stolen over to cover his, raising it to graze her knuckles with a kiss. She directed a grin at the hopeless romantic in him, before drawing his hand over to feel the hidden antics of the child that he had helped create. The overwhelming sensation of swooping weightlessness that followed wasn't entirely due to the effects relating to the Laws of Physics relating to flight.

Five minutes later, Phil Haynes leaned forward in his seat. "How would you feel about coming up to the hospital with me tonight, Tempe? You too, Booth."

"Why?" asked Brennan with a puzzled expression.

Phil explained his reasoning. "Well, I 'm heading over there to do a Caesarian Section, so I can use the ultrasound equipment to take a look at the position of that placenta of yours this afternoon, instead of waiting until tomorrow. I'll get you admitted for a few hours, one of my crack team of Midwives can run some of the tests that I need to clear you to travel back to Indonesia. You'll also get the fifty cent tour of the facility thrown into the deal."

Eileen chimed in. "Parker can hang out at our place and play X-Box with the boys. We're going to cook a barbecue and make homemade pizza in our pizza oven."

"You have a pizza oven at home?" asked Booth.

"Sure. It's outside, next to the barbecue," replied Eileen.

"Don't get him started, Eileen. Booth loves Neanderthal cuisine," quipped Brennan, in response to the rapturous expression on his face. "Phil. I believe that your suggestion is very reasonable. Will we go to the hospital straight from the airport?"

.

Brennan smiled when Phil nodded.

Booth bumped against her shoulder. "Why the hurry? Are you that worried?" he asked in a low voice.

"Absolutely not," she replied bumping his shoulder back. "But the sooner the tests are completed, the sooner I get cleared to have sex with you."

Booth gave a snort of mirth. "Bones!"

Phil had heard every word that Brennan had uttered and laughed along with Booth. "Hey, Booth. Why do I get the feeling that if I cleared Tempe right now, you'd be joining the Mile High Club today?"

"Would you consider it, Phil?" she asked cheekily, as Booth became a touch embarrassed.

Phil grinned at her and shook his head. "No, I wouldn't. As your Obstetrician, I'd advise you take a nap, or read a magazine to take your mind off the _issue_ for a couple of hours."

"Yeah, a nap is a great idea," agreed Booth.

"You're the one who should seriously be considering a nap, Booth!" she retorted.

"Me taking a nap? What am I, four years old? I'm not the one who's pregnant..." he bantered indignantly.

She leaned in close to his ear and nipped at his earlobe playfully. "You should know that I intend to keep you awake tonight. All night."

Ten minutes later, heads resting together and arms loosely entwined, they had finally stopped bickering in favour of maintaining some energy for later.

.

* * *

Dr. Phil Haynes squeezed out a generous glob of ultrasound gel onto the abdomen of his patient. "Okay, Tempe, I'm going to look at the umbilical cord and placenta in some detail for the next few minutes. After that, we'll go and see how the little fellow is doing and show Dad just how much he's grown since your anatomical scans seven weeks ago."

Brennan nodded, and Booth took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Phil made sonography look easy, and he explained that he was a qualified in medical imaging in addition to his OB-GYN specialty. Playing the machine like an instrument, he glided the probe with unerring precision and tapped at the keys on the ultrasound unit with his non-dominant hand, making a running commentary of his findings as he went.

"Good volume of fluid in here Tempe, proximal cord normal, good arterial and venous flows, distal cord normal. Ah, now for the moment of truth. Placenta, size within normal limits, but in the lower third of the uterus...but we knew that already. Hmm, overlying the cervical os by 2.5 centimeters. No sign of active bleeding, no residual clot to worry us." Phil gave a smile. "You're cleared to fly...and to resume sexual activity, of course. Now, shall we see what the little guy is up to?"

Brennan had a very wide smile on her face. "Yes, please. If you have time, Phil."

"I'll be getting paged in about ten minutes to go and scrub. One of the midwives is going to hook you up to a fetal monitor for half an hour, while I'm delivering my new niece." At Booth's questioning look, Phil clarified. " Mindy is Eileen's baby sister. So I have to take extra special care today if I plan on ever sleeping in my own bed again."

"Ooh! Phalanges!" said Brennan as the screen of the ultrasound machine displayed a hand. The view pulled out to show a side shot of Joey wriggling a little, his hand waving around.

"Aww! He's waving at us, Bones!" chuckled Booth. "Can you feel him moving?"

Phil gave a chuckle as Brennan shook her head in the negative. "Give him a few more weeks, when there's less room to move inside, you'll feel a lot more." The screen showed Joey's legs kicking out.

"I felt that..." she commented with a smile.

"If he stays put for a minute, I'll measure his femur," said Phil

"The bone in the leg, right?" asked Booth.

Brennan smiled at Booth, knowing full well that he knew what a femur was. "Yes. Phil is taking an anthropometric measurement from the greater trochanter to the lateral condyle to establish growth. At this point in my pregnancy, it will be around two inches in length."

"Forty-seven millimeters precisely," announced Phil.

"One point nine inches," she translated.

"Wow! That's so tiny. He's a lil' Bones!" laughed Booth leaning in to kiss her on the forehead. "You're amazing...did you know that, Bones?"

"Gestating a child is neither uncommon, nor amazing, Booth. Half-a-million babies are born on this planet every day. Four million babies are born in the US every year..." she countered.

Phil raised an eyebrow. "Woah! Remind me never to play Jeopardy with you! I'm gonna have to side with Booth here, Tempe. Having delivered thousands of babies, it is amazing, and at times miraculous...," he pointed at the crucifix on the wall. "It's a Catholic hospital, so referencing miracles is encouraged here, even if you don't believe. If you want to stick within the comfort zone of Anthropology, pregnancy, childbirth and motherhood are pivotal events."

A few more precious minutes of Joey-watching passed, with the predictable banter about who's nose he had and so forth, until Phil's pager went off. He put down the ultrasound probe and handed Brennan some wipes to help clean off the gel trails left over her abdomen.

"Okay. Show's over. I've got work to do. Sonia will be down from the Maternity Unit in a couple of minutes to escort you up. This door doesn't lock, so no jumping each other as soon as I leave the room," quipped Phil as he departed through the door without a lock.

"Are we that obvious?" pondered Booth.

Brennan gave a sultry laugh. "I can't speak for you, but if anyone is an authority on the libidinous behaviour of pregnant women, it would be Phil. He is correct. I find myself extremely aroused. Do you think they'll give us a room with a lock?" she asked as she swung her legs over the side of the examination couch and rearranged her clothes.

"Bones! It's a hospital. A Catholic hospital. People just don't do that!" he asserted.

Brennan begged to differ, so she did. "Actually, although considered taboo, sexual activity in hospitals is more common than you think. Hospital staff have written many amusing anecdotes on the subject. I even wrote a paper for a medical anthropology course in my training. It is no less common than people engaging in coitus on an aircraft."

"This isn't the Mile High Club, Bones..." warned Booth as he saw the expression on her face.

Their titillating conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the Midwife, who politely introduced herself and took them up to the Maternity Unit, taking Brennan quickly through some paperwork before leading them on a brief tour down a plush corridor to a room that looked not at all hospital-like.

"Wow! This looks like a top end hotel room," muttered Booth to himself.

"Don't be fooled by appearances," said Sonia, the Midwife. "The room is cleverly designed to convert into a fully functional birthing suite if required. Dr. Brennan, we've been informed that you've come straight from the airport, so feel free to use the amenities to freshen up and change into the wrap around gown. I've got to escort a newborn from the OR to the nursery, so I'll be back in twenty minutes or so. Any questions?"

"None at all. Thank you," replied Brennan. The Midwife exited to go about her duties.

.

Booth noticed that Brennan was staring at the door intently after it closed. "What's up, Bones?"

"Lock the door...please" she requested with a direct stare that spoke volumes of her intent.

"No way. Not going there..." he replied, standing with his thumbs tucked into the front pockets of his jeans.

She shrugged and removed her shirt. "Anyone could walk in, Booth..." she said casually as she unhooked her bra and placed it over the back of a chair, moving to stand in front of him and slipping the elasticated band of her pants down over her hips. "You said yourself it looks like a hotel room in here. Just use your imagination."

"Temperance!" he warned.

She pouted as she defiantly divested herself of her remaining clothing. "We could role play...like we did in the Vegas hotel room...I'll be Roxie, you'll be..."

"...going straight to Hell?" supplied Booth, willing his betraying body to quit being turned on by her.

She stepped up close enough for her aroused body to brush up against the soft cotton of his T-shirt. In a deliberate cliché she removed the tie that bound her hair up into a ponytail, shaking her locks out and putting on that drawl that had fuelled many penance-inducing episodes over the years, she said in character. "The door...baby, please."

"I have no idea how I'm even going to start confessing this..." he growled as he pulled her up against him and kissed her until she started tugging him over toward the bed. They broke the kiss and looked at each other.

"I'll get the blinds," she said with an arch of her brow.

"I'll get the door," he decided.

.

**- Half a minute later -**

"Hey Roxie, you've put on some pounds, honey. What gives?"

The unmistakeable sound of a hand slapping a gluteal rang out.

"Well, you knocked me up, sugar pie..." she drawled.

"Eh, this ass is more of a handful than I remember," he teased.

"Oh, are we gonna be fighting about this, baby? Because, some make up sex is just what the doctor ordered," she crooned.

"Aww, I don't wanna fight, sweetcheeks," he admitted.

"Me neither..." she agreed.

.

**- Twenty minutes later -**

Fresh from the shower, Brennan sat demurely on the double bed, in a cream hospital gown, trying hard not to doze off. Booth was innocently sat on a reclining chair next to the window.

The Midwife knocked and entered with a machine on a trolley, explaining how she would place a sensor and elasticated belt on Brennan to run a monitoring session of her uterine muscle tone and Joey's heart rate, letting them listen to the sound when first positioning the sensor, before muting it.

"All set. Just relax Dr. Brennan, have a snooze if you want to. I'll let the machine run for thirty minutes and we'll monitor you from the Nurse's Station. Just press the call button if you need anything. Dr. Haynes said to remind you that you still need to rest as much as possible." She turned to Booth as Brennan thanked her and turned on to her side with a sigh.

"Hey, thanks, Sonia." Booth said. "I'll just hang here if that's allowed."

"Of course. We strongly encourage partners to stay, you're allowed to join her on the bed, you know. Treat this room as you would your own at home. Don't worry, the nuns won't come and tell you off," Sonia chuckled as she saw his eyes flick to the crucifix on the wall. Hearing a faint snore coming from Brennan, the Midwife gave a smile as she turned to leave the room. "Wow! She must be really exhausted."

"Yeah. Busy day. Travel and all," commented Booth blithely around his direct knowledge of the frantic love-making that might have had something to do with it. Taking the advice of the Midwife, he removed his shoes and climbed onto the bed. Feeling the dip of the bed next to her, Brennan's eyes opened sleepily.

"Can I interest you in a chaste snuggle?" asked Booth.

"I thought you'd never ask..." she managed, settling in against him and promptly falling into a relaxed post-coital slumber.

**- Thirty minutes later -**

Sonia the Midwife knocked and entered the room to remove the monitors. Booth had remained awake, contemplating his long flight back to Afghanistan in just over twenty-four hours. Saying goodbye to Parker was going to crush him, then there was Bones, and the baby that would arrive in his absence.

Brennan awoke and sat up feeling refreshed and relaxed.

"If you get dressed Dr. Brennan, I've been asked to escort you and your partner to the nursery. Dr. Haynes is waiting for you," said Sonia. "Just press the call button when you're ready."

"Did the monitoring reveal any problems, Sonia?" asked Brennan.

"Dr. Haynes is reviewing the data in the Nursery, but based upon ten years of experience in this area, I can say that everything looked completely normal on the monitors."

**- Ten minutes later -**

Sonia swiped her access card against the reader on the wall, causing the doors to the restricted area of the Nursery to swing inwards.

"I'll just ask the two of you to wash your hands at those sinks, using the pink soap in the dispenser, then put on paper hats, gowns and shoe covers please. We have strict infection control requirements for visitors," explained the Midwife in a business-like fashion.

"It's good to know that this facility has such high standards," commented Brennan as they began washing their hands.

"Our kid is going to be born here in a matter of weeks. I'm glad that I get to have a look around the place first..." said Booth, trying not to come over too over-protective.

Phil's head popped around a doorway. "Come on in you two. I want you to meet someone."

He led them over to an open cot, with a heating device above it, where a newborn was fussing about the indignity of being clothed by a Midwife. Brennan looked on with interest.

"This is your niece, Phil?" she asked.

"Correct, Tempe! She is still called 'baby', because Eileen's sister takes her sweet time choosing names. She's just fifty-five minutes old, eight pounds and five ounces, which would have never made a natural entrance in the circumstances. Her mother is in recovery after the anaesthetic, her father is five hundred miles away, waiting for a commercial flight. So as Uncle, I get first cuddle rights, until Aunty Eileen gets here anyhow." Phil proudly took the fussing newborn from the Midwife who had swaddled her up and placed a cute cotton beanie on her head.

Phil placed a kiss on the forehead of the baby. "Mindy really wanted a girl. Booth, I know that you won't be here when it's Tempe's turn, so I asked Mindy if I could give you a special moment that you're gonna miss. She got all weepy because you were going to be overseas, and said she'd kick my arse if I didn't introduce you two to 'baby' here. Take her for a minute. You'll see what I mean."

Booth looked at Phil and took the baby bundle. "Wow, she's tiny and weighs next to nothing...Woah, she's staring at me like...amazing..." he trailed off.

Brennan bit her lip to stop herself crying, but the look of wonder on Booth's face opened the floodgates. "You missed this with Parker?" she asked, swiping the tears from her cheeks, as Booth nodded mutely, staring back at the newborn.

"It's an instinctive first moment of bonding. Almost like this new soul is looking into your soul, making a connection. It never gets old, Tempe. It's magical, even if you don't believe in that kind of thing. Maybe Booth will give you a turn, so you can see what I mean," said Phil with a grin.

"Hey, get your own baby!" joked Booth in a low voice, so as not to startle the newborn. "Here you go, Bones. She's small, but you're gonna have to get used to it..."

The bundle was duly handed to Brennan, who felt suddenly unsure at the prospect of handling this small scrap of humanity. She adjusted the position of the newborn to the optimal position that she knew fell within the visual range of a neonate, and fell under the spell of the small pair of slate grey eyes.

"Incredible..." she breathed. "This child is not even my own, but I..."

"Pretty special, huh?" asked Booth.

"I wonder if it will be different when it's my time," she mused.

Phil gave a short laugh. "Oh, Tempe. You have no idea how different it will be. Try this experience multiplied by a thousand. With your own child, you're mesmerised. Head over heels in love. It changes you, in a good way, in the best way. It opens your heart in ways that you'd never believe possible."

Booth put his arm around her and peeked over her shoulder. Brennan looked askance at Phil. "I find myself looking forward to this, very much. May I hold her for another minute, please?"

"Okay, Tempe. But Eileen is expecting us for homemade pizza and a barbecue. Delivering babies is hungry work!" said Phil.

Brennan gave an absent smile and spoke to the newborn. "I know that you are only an hour old, but you will find that men in your life frequently see fit to prioritise food over pretty much anything..."

**A/N #2: Sex in hospitals happens. As does that amazing bonding stare...**


	27. Symbols, Symbolism, and the Symbolic

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 27 – Symbols, Symbolism, and the Symbolic**

**.**

**Disclaimer: **BONES belongs to FOX & affiliates, Hart Hanson & company. Infringement is not intended. Please don't sue me - I have nothing.

**A/N: I've been pondering this chapter for some weeks now...and I'm a deep thinker (read: abyss deep). Where you, the reader, read these chapters and it plays out as alternate reality with our fictional friends - for me, it is quite different. Most writers have some sort of method to inspire them to write, and with fanfic, the BONES universe is, without a doubt, rich with inspiration. Alas, I need a little more, to drill down under the surface and tap into the themes and motivations, it's the analyst in me.**

**For those readers interested in this sort of thing, the following passage became a catalyst when writing this particular chapter. So if you happen to find the delicate application of these sentiments in this chapter, you may get a feel for how it motivated me to write. The classic quote from the timeless works of The Bard, 'parting is such sweet sorrow' has been rattling around in my skull, since I started this story, following the Season 5 finale in May. **

**_Romeo and Juliet - Act II, Scene II - Capulet's Orchard, William Shakespeare._**

_JULIET: 'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone:_

_And yet no further than a wanton's bird;_

_Who lets it hop a little from her hand,_

_Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,_

_And with a silk thread plucks it back again,_

_So loving-jealous of his liberty._

_._

_ROMEO: I would I were thy bird._

_._

_JULIET: Sweet, so would I:_

_Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing._

_Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow,_

_That I shall say good night till it be morrow._

* * *

The hours, minutes and seconds ran down on the clock relentlessly. The prospect of thoughts about returning to a long-distance relationship was not something that either Booth, or Brennan particularly relished, but it was the reality that they faced. In the face of their final hours together, they found themselves juxtaposed between wanting to cram as many quality memories in as possible, and simply locking themselves away to cling to the reality that dwindled like fine sand between their fingers.

Despite the early hour, the guest wing of the sprawling Haynes household was filled with laughter, intimate and temporarily carefree, attempting to stave off the approaching event horizon of their inevitable separation. Seeley Booth fell back onto the mattress, still breathing heavily from exertion, his toes still curling pleasurably as his partner curled a leg around him.

.

"C'mon, we need to get up and shower," he said in a resigned tone.

"Ten more minutes," she demanded, draping herself over him to worry his bottom lip with small nips.

"No time," he retorted, nipping back at her.

"There is if we shower together," she reasoned.

"Ha! I'm not falling for that Eco Warrior crap again. We almost broke the shower screen last time...plus you hog all the spray!" he retorted.

"Fine," she conceded, laying her head on his warm chest to listen to the metronomic song of the heart imprisoned in his ribcage; closing her eyes to soothe her anxiety. Today was a day destined to challenge her grip on rationality like no other. Brennan knew that they both had to return to their respective corners of the planet for a few months, but this morning she felt the penance of their choices acutely.

.

After a couple of minutes of silent contemplation, Booth spoke.

"It's only six months, Bones. We can do this..."

"I know. We have to go," she replied, trying to withdraw herself from a deeper discussion.

"You'll be so busy with the little guy, the time will fly," said Booth.

"You do know that time can't actually fly...," she began, teasingly.

"Yeah. I saw Back to the Future, and the sequels. There's no such thing as a flying Delorean, or time travel," he replied.

She gave a snort of laughter against his chest. "You forgot about the flying steam locomotive time machine, Booth."

"Wait. You've seen Back to the Future?" he asked.

.

Raising her head and propping herself up on his chest, she grinned at him. "Yes. In my Senior year, our Physics Club did a project on the Back to the Future concept, separating science fact from science fiction. The multiple layers of paradox presented a fascinating challenge to quantum mechanical theory. Plus, I found the flux capacitor to be a very interesting theoretical construct."

Both laughed adding, "...plus, Angela's Dad was in the last movie."

"Yes. Of course I didn't know that at the time," she laughed.

Booth traced a line around her belly button and gave a sigh of frustration.

"What?" she asked.

"I've gotta admit, I wish I were him, Bones," he said.

"Who? Billy? But you can't even play a guitar, Booth. Although, I believe that you are rebel enough to be a badass," she said, grabbing at his nearest gluteal in a very literal interpretation.

"Ouch! Not Billy...badass?" he protested, attempting to wriggle away from her fingers.

"Oh. You mean Michael J. Fox? He played an excellent role, and as a teenager, I found him attractive. However, as an adult, I met him in New York; I found him to be too short in stature for my preferences. A very nice man though," she mused.

"No, Bones. I wish that I got to stay with you; like Joey," he explained.

.

She considered the implications of his wish seriously. "Joey has no choice. He is attached to me by an umbilical cord until he is born. Then he will be completely dependent upon me for sustenance from my breast milk until he commences solid food, which will be after we return to D.C."

"Too literal," Booth said with a smile. "But I love that about you."

"You do?" she asked, assuming an evil grin. "I thought that it was all about my bedroom charms."

"Oh, yeah. They're on the list too."

Brennan gave him a sly look. "Is page 187 on that list?"

"Is that a question, or a request?" he asked.

"Both," she replied smugly, as she used her hands to indicate that it was indeed a request.

"We've made that page pretty dog-eared lately, Bones," he quipped.

"I'll buy you the e-book," she announced decisively, ending the conversation by straddling his body, covering his mouth with hers, demanding her favourite bedtime story. The growl of response from Booth suggested that he was going to give her an enthusiastic rendition.

.

* * *

Breakfast rushed by in a flurry of activity in the open-plan kitchen area as ten people sat down to devour fruit, cereal, toast, baked goods fresh from the local patisserie, and mountains of scrambled eggs. It was a family celebration of sorts; Eileen's sister, Mindy had made a sudden decision to name her newborn daughter. Pictures of baby Amy were being passed around the table, with raucous debate being raised by the Haynes children as to which member of their large extended family the newborn resembled most.

Parker sidled up to Brennan, a milk moustache decorating his top lip.

"I'm glad I'm getting a brother. Girls are no fun," he declared.

"Oh, is that so?" asked Brennan archly. "I happen to be a girl, you know."

"Not you, Bones. You're awesome! Dad says I'll change my mind about girls when I get armpit hair, what do you think?" asked Parker conspiratorially, as his father almost choked on a mouthful of scrambled eggs at his tone.

Brennan laughed and used her napkin to wipe his milk moustache away. "I think that if you continue to walk around with that milk moustache, all the girls will think you have armpit hairs."

"Hey, thanks Bones! A guy can't be too careful," replied the boy with a wink.

"We can't give you back to your Mom all hairy now, can we Bud?" agreed Booth.

"Nuh, uh. I need to wait until Joey is old enough to be my wingman, before I start hanging around with girls," replied Parker.

Booth laughed at the idea, and the puzzlement that crossed Brennan's face.

.

* * *

By mid-morning, they were all packed. The spring heat, combined with the bright sunlight and cloudless pale blue sky, drew the adults outside to where the kids were playing basketball. Spying his Dad, obviously finished with all the boring packing stuff, Parker pleaded for Booth to shoot some hoops. Brennan encouraged the request, stating she had to make a Skype call to Angela anyhow.

Mere minutes later, Brennan was sat under the shade of a gazebo next to the pool area, chatting with her best friend.

.

"I'm so glad that you enjoyed the dolphin sanctuary, Bren. Padme suggested it, you know," admitted Angela.

Brennan gave a yawn, which she tried to cover with a hand. "Just how many people were involved in this conspiracy?" she asked.

"Enough," replied the Artist evasively, a wide smile spreading over her face. "You know, you're really glowing this morning, Sweetie. But you seem a little tired. Is everything okay?"

"We didn't get much sleep last night after we got back from the hospital. But I intend to sleep on the flight," replied Brennan.

"Right. You had more scans. Didn't you do a load of those tests when you arrived a couple of weeks ago?" asked Angela.

"Yes. I have arranged to have some of the images sent to you." Brennan paused to articulate an objective version of her scary experience. "I was...unwell for a couple of days in Monkey Mia. Phil, my obstetrician, wouldn't clear me to return to Maluku until he was satisfied that I was fit to travel."

"You were sick? Oh my God!" exclaimed Angela.

"Yes. I contracted a respiratory infection, which caused some minor bleeding and uterine irritation. I was treated with medication and rest. I am fully recovered and deemed no longer at risk of pre-term labour, so there is no need for concern," Brennan assured her friend.

"You went into labour?" asked her friend, both hands fluttering at her neck now in distress.

"Technically, it was threatened labour. Although, it seemed very real at the time," admitted Brennan, rubbing a hand over her kicking son affectionately.

"That is seriously not cool, Brennan!" ranted Angela.

"The tests at the hospital excluded any ongoing risks to our health," Brennan flashed a grin and lowered her gaze to share a confidence. "We resumed sexual activity immediately. I find pregnancy to be a highly stimulating condition."

Angela gave a low chuckle, then raising her voice, she threw a comment over her shoulder. "Jack! I need to get pregnant pronto. Bren says we're missing out on a whole lotta fun." A laugh from the bug man could be heard in the background. The artist returned to her quest for details. "You jumped Booth as soon as you got home from the hospital? That is so hot!"

Brennan shook her head with a smirk.

"You got some action at the hospital? That is so 'Gray's Anatomy'. Bonus points for a hospital hook-up..." said the grinning artist with a waggle of her eyebrows.

"Using your scoring system, Angela. We should be awarded additional points because it was a Catholic hospital. I had no qualms personally, but Booth took a little more convincing," admitted Brennan with a grin.

"Bren!"

.

Booth chose that very moment to interrupt the Skype call to say a few words to Angela. Wearing only a pair of shorts and a white wife-beater, he looked very much like he was just a regular guy enjoying a vacation. Angela gave a low whistle at his particularly toned appearance, thanks to shooting hoops with Parker and the kids for the past few minutes.

"Hop up, Bones, I wanna say _'Hi'_ to my favourite Parisian artist." Brennan rolled her eyes and stood to let Booth take the chair in front of the webcam.

"Nice try with the charm there, Sarge. But I just happen to be the only Parisian artist you know!" she replied with a wide smile, then gasped as Brennan moved to one side. "Oh my, look how big your belly got in the last couple of weeks, Bren."

.

Booth looked up at Brennan with a grin, not realising that Angela was recording the candid moment at her end, when he playfully kissed her abdomen from where he sat. This elicited a fond chuckle from the Anthropologist, which turned to a squawk of indignation as Booth bodily hauled her over onto his lap. Angela began laughing at the scene playing out on the screen of her laptop.

"Ouch! Sit still a minute," complained Booth as Brennan settled herself over his lap without sparing him her elbows in the process. Booth looked at the webcam, a long-suffering expression on his face. "Your best friend may have an enormous belly, but I'm here to tell you, she has a bony ass!"

"Booth! I haven't developed any new bony prominences on my ass," she countered defensively.

He snorted in mock derision. "Ha! Tell that to my bruised thighs, Dr. Bony-Ass."

"I'll give you bruised thighs...," she growled in response, grabbing his chin in a pistol grip.

Caught up in the gravity well of each other, now oblivious to the the webcam, Booth gave a sexy grin. "I thought you'd never ask Dr. Bony-A..." His words were cut off by a kiss from the aggrieved doctor with the allegedly bony ass.

"Dudes, way to sex up Skype!" said the voice of Hodgins from behind Angela.

"Aww, Jack! Don't interrupt them. It's kind of cute, and we've only waited like half a decade for them to get their act together," commented Angela, as the couple on the Australian end of the conversation called a halt their impromptu make out session.

"Dr. Hodgins," said Brennan formally, with an evil smile twitching at her lips. "My apologies. Booth takes great pleasure in poking my buttons."

"Poking?" laughed Booth. "I think you mean pushing. Sorry about the peep show, guys. She can't keep her hands off me...You're looking well, Bug Man...don't they have barber shops in Paris? The hair is growing a bit wild."

Hodgins gave a grin. "I'm in mourning for your hair, man. Stocks in men's hair products have taken a dive since you re-upped and your locks became the bitch of those Army-issue clippers."

"Don't diss the hair, man!" retorted Booth. "When I get back to D.C. I'll have a gun and my hair gel back, so watch it."

"Ooh! Death by hair gel. Now that's what I call a metrosexual crime..." snorted Hodgins.

"Ahem, excuse us, gentlemen," interjected Angela. "Sorry to break up the Bromance, but Bren and I were attempting to have a little girl talk, before we were rudely interrupted."

Brennan suppressed another yawn and smiled at the couple in Paris. "It must be getting late over there."

Angela shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, Sweetie, it's almost two a.m., but I wanted to catch up before you went back to Maluku. The bandwidth on those connections leaves a lot to be desired. It looks beautiful where you are now."

"It's very pleasant. Much better than the high humidity of Maluku. I'll back here around Christmas of course. The organising committee won't permit me to work on site past that point. I'll be here for the local summer," explained Brennan.

"We'll be freezing our asses off in Paris. The North wind is already making things chilly. Luckily, I have my bed-warmer for the winter all arranged," said Angela with a saucy grin as she raised an eyebrow at her husband.

Hodgins leaned in toward the webcam conspiratorially. "Women. Put a ring on their finger and before you know it, you're just the bedwarmer. Okay guys, I'm going to take my irresistible curly locks and head off to warm up the bed for the Mistress of the House. Have a safe trip!"

"We should let the two of you get some sleep. We're going to take Parker to the airport to meet Rebecca. Her flight from Bali arrives in an hour and Parker is heading off to Sydney to get a direct flight back to the U.S. with his Mom," explained Booth. "Then we have to check in for our own flights."

"Did Baby Booth have a good time?" asked Angela.

"Yes. He did, we have lots of photographs of him, and Parker has plenty of souvenirs to take back to his class," replied Brennan.

Angela sighed. "I'm sure he has some awesome memories to take home with him too, Bren."

Booth cut in. "We all do, Ange. We couldn't have done this without you two...so, thanks. We love you guys."

"What can I say? Love makes the world go round..." taking in the expression on Brennan's face, Angela added. "Figuratively speaking of course. Well, I suppose I should log off and work on making the world spin a little faster with my personal bed-warmer. I've got the ring on my finger, right?" she said waggling her gold band at the webcam in farewell.

Booth and Brennan said their goodbyes as Angela logged off.

.

"So," asked Brennan. "Are your thighs bruised yet?"

"Eh. They'll heal in time for me to be your bed-warmer next D.C. winter," he retorted.

"Are you asking me to put a ring on your finger first?" she teased.

"Nah, you already walked across the camp for me, Bones, remember? Around this part of the world, a guy can't get much luckier than that, right?" he asked with a look of sincerity that made her breath catch.

"It was a symbolic commitment, but I meant every step of it, Booth. You went out of your way to bring me happiness; coming halfway across the world. Reciprocation is not one of my strengths..." she trailed off as his hand trailed across the evidence to the contrary.

Booth felt the small velvet pouch in his pocket, now burning a virtual hole in his leg. "I wouldn't be so sure about that Bones,... if we were traditional Aboriginal people, we'd be on our Honeymoon right now. But you're having our baby, so we had a Babymoon instead. It's the ultimate reciprocation in any culture, right?"

.

Brennan gave a soft laugh following his rambling reasoning, as she rested her head in the crook of his neck. "I'm confident that the Honeymoon is not a part of traditional Aboriginal culture. Although I agree in principle about having a baby together. I'll concede that I had never anticipated this desire to formalise my ties with any man. Eileen says my attitude results from a modern feminist plot to destabilise the benefits that strong family units deliver to society; she wrote a post-doctoral thesis on the subject."

"A thesis? Wow...it sounds like one of Hodgins' conspiracy theories!" commented Booth.

"Yes, it is somewhat controversial. We had the opportunity to discuss and debate many Anthropological issues at length in Maluku. The nightlife isn't a patch on D.C. really and we were generally not inclined to wander too far from the site in any case. Eileen summed up her argument in lay terms by telling me that I should at least try a traditional symbol of commitment on for size before I summarily dismiss her theory."

"Would six months be enough?" he asked.

"Enough for what?" she asked, turning slightly in his lap to look into his face.

"To try on a traditional symbol of commitment...and maybe think about it?" he requested in a low voice. "No pressure. No ties. No gilded cage. Just a souvenir of our time here together. Something...a reminder that will get you through our next few months apart...like you walking across the camp for me."

She smiled at him. "A souvenir, like your 'Cocky' belt buckle?"

He shook his head. "It's back in D.C."

"Your dog tags?" she asked.

"Nope. Won't go with all those chunky necklaces of yours," he quipped, receiving a poke to the sternum from her in retaliation.

"Oh. I get to keep your camouflage jacket? That would be highly satisfactory." she suggested playfully, with her eyes taking on that look she had given him next to the campfire a couple of nights earlier.

"Nuh uh, Temperance. I bought you a souvenir. Do you want it?" he asked her, knowing that she was smarter than that, that she was dancing around the subject as usual. He looped his finger around the ribbon tie of the small velvet bag in his pocket, dangling it in front of her.

She nodded mutely, her eyes shining with tears that threatened.

"Just while we're apart, you can wear this as a reminder. When we meet at the coffee cart, if you're still up for wearing it, we can talk about Eileen's theory some more," he suggested as she took the small ochre-coloured pouch from his fingers.

As she took the intricately decorated precious metal band from the pouch she paid rapt attention to the detail that she had ignored at the jeweller's stall. "There are lots of things that we'll need to address in six months...oh, tiny dolphins and the woven metal tricks the eye like an Escher drawing...," she breathed to herself, putting the ring onto the appropriate finger of her left hand experimentally. "It is beautifully crafted, Booth. I love it...and regardless of what it might mean symbolically, right now, or in six months' time, I do know that I love you."

He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth as he wove his fingers around the fingers that now included the woven ring. "That ring; it's an original. Unique, Bones. Like you. Y'know, I love you too...Dr. Bony-A...oh, never mind..." This time he cut off his own words as he met her lips full-force with his own.

.

* * *

Ninety minutes later, Parker, Booth and Brennan arrived at the International Terminal of the airport in Perth. Eileen would be joining them in a hour, having taken the opportunity to visit her sister, Mindy, in the hospital on her way. Waiting in the busy arrivals area, Parker was bouncing around with excitement, waiting for his Mom and Captain Fantastic to emerge from the massive doors which would slide aside to reveal passengers arriving from Bali as they cleared Customs. Many of the passengers looked like they had stepped straight off the beach and onto the aircraft, wearing surf gear, sarongs and bikinis, with tightly braided hair courtesy of the Balinese kids who made their living with their nimble braiding fingers along the tourist beaches.

As Rebecca emerged with her boyfriend, her long blonde hair braided so that she looked a little like Bo Derek in the movie _'Ten'_, Parker did a massive double-take and hung over the barriers to shout a welcome. She waved and grinned, pointing toward the exit as she pushed her case-laden trolley.

The reunion was sweet, with Parker babbling a mile-a-minute as he was showered with hugs and kisses. Introductions were made, handshakes and hugs were exchanged, before the group made their way over to the Domestic Terminal Transit Desk where they would part with Parker and his traveling companions who were returning to the States. They had a few minutes to spare before the coach arrived to take them away. Parker suddenly realised that it was going to be a while before he saw his Dad or Bones again, his face pinching and pouting in an effort not to cry. Brennan saw his face fall and found that it tugged at her emotions strongly. Concerned, she placed a hand on Parker's arm and asked him if he was okay. The boy simply wrapped his arms around Dr. Bones and hugged her baby bump.

.

"I'm gonna miss Joey most of all!" announced Parker, eliciting smiles universally from all the adults present. Brennan found tears running down her face involuntarily, not quite knowing how to respond to the attention, or the assertion.

"You'll catch up with him soon enough, buddy!" said Booth. "When you're on Summer vacation, we'll see if your Mom will come visit us too, huh?" Parker nodded mutely before springing away from Brennan to wrap his arms around his father. Booth picked him up into a bear hug, making grizzly bear noises to make the boy laugh.

Rebecca gave a wistful smile at Brennan who was wiping the tears off her cheeks. "With a new baby to visit? Try and keep me away, Seeley. I don't miss the emotional roller coaster side of pregnancy one bit, Dr. Brennan. You look fantastic though. I never had the height to make a baby bump look good. It sounds like you've had fun with the dolphins; I hope that my son behaved for you."

Brennan smiled back at Rebecca. "Please, call me Temperance. Parker is a happy and considerate boy. I hope that my own child develops such a charming nature. Unfortunately, it is not simply a matter of genetic inheritance."

"Oh, I think that Parker got a lot of his charms from his father...not that it's wise to mention that sort of thing around Seeley," remarked Rebecca, receiving a cocky grin from Booth who she knew was listening in.

.

The conversation was interrupted by the announcement of the transfer coach arrival. Booth put Parker down, handed his camouflage jacket to Brennan, which she slipped on in the icy air-conditioned terminal, while he carried the luggage belonging to his son over to the waiting coach. Brennan felt a small hand creep into hers and squeeze her hand. She put an arm around Parker and gave him an affectionate sideways hug. He patted her baby bump and told Joey to behave, chuckling, making her and Rebecca laugh out loud along with him.

"C'mon buddy! Time to go with your Mom now," announced Booth.

"Dad?" asked Parker, looking up earnestly at his father now.

"Yes, bud?" his father replied.

"Promise to come home safe...please? said the boy, with a slight waver in his voice betraying the cost of expressing his innermost fears.

"You betcha' kiddo!" replied Booth with his best game face on, and opened his arms to the worried kid. "C'mon, last chance for a hug from your old man..."

.

Brennan looked away, feeling slightly overwhelmed, but forced herself to look back. Rebecca put a hand on her forearm supportively. "He'll be fine, Temperance. They both will. We all will."

"Have a safe trip, Rebecca. I'd like to arrange to send Parker a gift at Christmas, if that's okay" said Brennan, as Rebecca stepped away.

"By all means, Temperance, that is so thoughtful of you! Parker would love that. He'll also be looking forward to seeing your Dad too; those sessions at the Jeffersonian have done wonders for his grades," replied Rebecca over her shoulder as she gave a parting wave.

* * *

With just the two of them remaining, Booth and Brennan went over to check in their bags and get their seats allocated. They were flying on the same airline, but Brennan insisted that Booth accompany her through the First Class check-in area on the flimsy premise of helping her with her bags. Booth soon found out that his flight to Frankfurt via Singapore had been upgraded to First Class too, earning the perpetrator of that particular surprise an impromptu make out session at the Check-in counter, much to the amusement of the airline staff, who were all Aussies and pretty laid back about such things.

.

Hand in hand, they made their way through the security check-points and Customs area, emerging into the less crowded departure gate area. Finding the entrance to the First Class Lounge, they took the escalator to the secluded deck above the departure gates and were ushered into a private corner of the Lounge, overlooking the airfield through heavily tinted windows.

Still hand in hand, they sat beside each other on a low couch, reminiscent of the one in Sweets' office; a fact which didn't escape their notice, but only raised a strained smile instead of a laugh.

The sounds of announcements, comings, and goings swept around their couch-sized cocoon. Objectively, time still moved forward at its inevitable march, seconds pacing at sixty beats per minute, minutes expiring sixty times per hour. Subjectively, they just sat in an unquantifiable moment of comfort; saying everything, saying nothing; sometimes touching, sometimes not. It was a moment that was theirs alone, probably their last moment alone. Booth made the happy realisation.

.

"You do realise that this is going to be the last time that we'll be alone together?" he asked.

"I have never been comfortable with the juxtaposition in the phrase _'alone together'_, it has an oxymoronic quality to it," she mused rationally.

Booth rolled his eyes and pulled her into a seated guy hug and spoke quietly into her ear. "When you're on the plane you can analyse that on your own time, Bones. Right now, it's you and me. Just the two of us, here and now."

She smiled as she caught his drift. "And the next time I see you, we will have a third party present...our child. I see your reasoning now."

"You'll be a great Mom," he assured her.

"You will be an excellent father. I also anticipate that you will be unfazed by regurgitation and dirty diapers," she replied in kind with a grin as she nuzzled at his jawline, subconsciously attempting to imprint his physical presence upon her memory.

He gave a low laugh. "I've been hanging around you and a parade of gruesome corpses for years, so it goes without saying that I'm not gonna be fazed by puke and poop, especially of the baby variety."

"Booth, can I ask you a favour, seeing as we will be both heading our separate ways soon?" she said.

"Sure, whatever you need," he replied.

"Can we stop talking for a few minutes?" she asked, directing a heated gaze toward him.

"Oh, I get it...non-verbal communication," he said shifting their comfortable embrace to something more comforting.

"You don't mind?" she said with a smile as she wriggled in as close as possible.

He decided to provide a non-verbal response.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Eileen Haynes arrived to find Brennan apparently dozing on her partner's chest as he watched on; his hand resting protectively over her abdomen.

"Sorry, I'm late," said Eileen by way of greeting, as Brennan opened her eyes in response to the voice. "Your plane just started boarding, Booth. Lucky for you, First Class gets on last..."

Planting a kiss on the top of her head, Booth unwrapped himself from around his partner, feeling like he was ripping off a giant band-aid. From the stricken expression that flashed momentarily across her face, it was all she could do to stand up and face him; to steel herself with the rational certainty of their coffee cart reunion.

"It's time," said Brennan holding out her hand.

.

He leaned forward in his seat and took her hand. Giving a small grin, Booth placed his head against her belly and murmured a few words against it, punctuating his murmurings with a kiss. Only then did he stand up and look into her eyes. Unlike other partings, this time they had said all that they needed to say, achieved a new equilibrium of their special brand of candid honesty, perhaps even accepting being dragged down the entropic rapids of reality. It still wantonly crushed at their metaphorical hearts, but their collective hopes and dreams were symbolically and anthropologically represented by the progeny who had stirred in response to the words and warmth of his father.

Still tethered by their interlaced fingers, they strolled casually out to the Mezzanine exit of the lounge and stood at the top of the escalator. Eileen had received a giant smackeroo kiss of farewell from Booth and he whispered a few words in her ear, making the older Anthropologist laugh; she now stood back hovering just inside the entrance to the lounge, giving the couple a chance to have a private goodbye.

.

"What did you say to him?" asked Brennan, referring to the words that he had murmured against her belly moments earlier.

"Just guy stuff. Just, guy...stuff, y'know it doesn't matter." He shrugged his nonchalance eloquently with his superior non-verbal vocabulary. "You need to be careful, Temperance. I know how hard you work, so rest, take care of yourself, eat lots of Hershey Bars, call that guy in Afghanistan occasionally...the sexy one, who wants to feature in all the sparky parts of your next book."

Brennan stifled her desire to cry within a short dry laugh. "Your solicitous advice is reiterating that you love me. I find that love is too small a word to express my feelings for you...it fails to convey the strength of our bond, the depth of my affection, the abiding respect that we share." She gripped his hand tightly.

.

Booth looked up as his name was paged, asking him to make his way to the departure gate immediately. Impulsively grabbing her left hand, he kissed the ring that she had agreed to wear a few hours earlier; before finally letting their tethered hands separate as he stepped onto the descending escalator.

"Sometimes, _'I love you' _is all you have time for. See you at the coffee cart, Bones!" he said with a half-salute, half-wave.

Brennan leaned against the balustrade, looking down, following his descent. When he reached the lower floor and hoisted his small duffel onto his shoulder, she called out to him. He was correct, in this scenario, there was no time for anything else.

"Booth!"

He looked up.

"I love you!" she called out loudly, drawing a sudden silence and the attention of fifty strangers meandering within earshot. Fifty-one pairs of eyes were drawn to her standing against the balustrade of the upper level, a hand raised in farewell. But she was only interested in the pair of eyes belonging to Seeley Booth. He rolled his brown eyes and grinned cockily.

"Love you too, baby!" he replied loudly enough to attract the attention of their airport audience, as he blew a kiss up at her and began jogging away.

Her laugh rang out from the Mezzanine. "Don't call me baby!" she called after his retreating back, before retreating back to the Lounge to await her own flight call.

.

Eileen accompanied her back inside, a supportive hand on her shoulder. "I thought that the two of you did a really great job of not making a spectacle of yourselves, until you went all Act II, Scene II off the balcony there, Temperance," remarked Eileen dryly.

"I decided to try on a traditional symbol of commitment to test the theory that you postulated, Eileen," remarked Brennan off-handedly, as she took a seat, feeling strangely hollow inside despite her knowledge of that improbability.

Eileen sat down on an armchair opposite her friend and colleague. "I thought that witnessing your walking across the camp was a pivotal moment in your relationship with Booth. So what brought this on?" asked Eileen objectively.

"Booth purchased a souvenir for me, which served a dual purpose when we discussed the issue." Brennan presented her left hand to the older woman in explanation.

Eileen moved from her seat to sit beside Brennan, taking her left hand and examining the intricately crafted piece. "It is exquisite, Temperance. Don't be afraid of what it means, or try and over think it. Take strength from it."

"I know," she replied, the emptiness she felt assuaged somewhat by her son moving restlessly under her now circling hand. The ring, a couple of plastic figurines, they held collective meaning. "I have all the evidence that I need."

* * *

**Post A/N: I hope that you enjoyed this epic update. I just couldn't split this piece. The next chapter is going to move forward in time, because I'm rolling this story toward its conclusion. The updates from here on could vary in length, but I'm personally enjoying the pacing of the longer chapters - if you have a preference, or a comment, I would love to hear from you...seriously**


	28. The Ties that Bind

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 28 – The Ties that Bind**

**Disclaimer:** I have no interest in ownership of BONES. This is a work of fiction, not done for any recognition or profit.

**A/N: This transition chapter took the longest time to write; my apologies for the delayed update. The next two chapters are covering Christmas and New Year…with a little fun and a few surprises. Thanks for sticking with this story. As always, your thoughts and reviews are welcomed. Follow me on Twitter (Skole_Bone), or come and visit Bonesology, my virtual home.**

* * *

_Wednesday, December 15th, 2010 - Maluku Islands_

Eight weeks had flown by. It was finally time for Brennan to leave Indonesia; take a few weeks of leave, rest, conserve the energy that her body needed to finish the process of gestation without any further stress. Not that she was stressed per se. Since her scare a couple of months previously, her pregnancy had progressed smoothly; she found herself with lots of energy and threw herself enthusiastically back into project work. The routine was natural and uncomplicated, allowing Brennan to simultaneously focus and adjust to her new reality.

.

The arrival of Ella Haynes at the Maluku Project, four weeks ago had provided Brennan with an assistant of sorts. The sixteen year-old prodigy had graduated as Valedictorian of her class, with Eileen agreeing that her daughter could come to Indonesia for a few weeks leading up to Christmas, knowing that it was the only graduation gift that her youngest daughter desired. The presence of this quiet young woman, who reminded Brennan of her younger self in so many ways, was calming, cathartic, and instructive.

Surprisingly, Ella struck up an instant friendship with Daisy Wick; using skills that she had learned in dealing with her elder sisters, Ella spent many hours listening to Daisy's alternating reminiscences and rants over Lance Sweets. Brennan also spent time talking with Ella, who became her unofficial shadow around the dig and campsite. The teenager had an uncanny knack for anticipating when to be unobtrusive and when to be inquisitive. In actual fact, Ella simply had a natural ability to read people.

.

For Brennan, watching Ella Haynes interact with her mother over the course of a month was both confronting and cathartic, stirring up the truth which lay under the traumatic scars of her parents' leaving on that December day, so long ago. Ruth Keenan, or Christine Brennan as she had been known, had indeed had an open and loving relationship with her daughter, Temperance. Eileen was an open and loving parent to her daughter in the close quarters of the Maluku Project environs, which triggered recollections of Brennan's own young adulthood. It added a tangible depth to that short videotaped message from her mother; recognising that she had been loved, she had been wanted. Until now, Brennan had found it too difficult to work past her abandonment to take any kind of comfort from the dozen years of happy, loving memories that had been compartmentalised beneath the trauma.

The ring on her right hand, her mother's ring, began to echo the symbolic love of the ring on her left hand. She was loved. She was wanted. She was finally looking forward to experiencing the exchange of unfettered love and affection that motherhood would bring. Observing her colleague, Brennan knew that this love was instinctive, but began to comprehend that it wasn't ephemeral; it was eternal. At the small scale Thanksgiving held at the Indonesian campsite, when it was time for Brennan to relate what she was thankful for, she found that she had many things to speak of, including the loving memories of her own mother.

* * *

Further finds from the dig had been small, but added significantly to the overall body of work that would emerge from the project. Brennan had spent the past two weeks working on the detailed plans for the final stages and shut down of the site in approximately three months' time. Eileen would be heading up the administrative role for the remainder of the dig, while Brennan shouldered some of her colleague's academic burden by coordinating the supervision and examination of dozens of international undergraduate and post-graduate candidates. Two weeks previously, the University of Western Australia had offered Brennan the academic post of Associate Professor, to allow her full access to the best institution in the region and permit her to even teach a few classes if she wished.

.

Booth had started calling her _'Professor Bones'_ immediately upon hearing the news, which had triggered one of the best bantering sessions that they had ever had in one of their satellite video calls. She had assured Booth that she would not be walking around all day in black academic robes and the institution was absolutely not, and had never been called Hogwarts. Nor would she be teaching a subject called _'Care of magical skeletons'_. When Booth actually explained the Harry Potter reference, she threatened to turn him into a toad using some tribal spells from 'real' witchdoctors, documented in anthropological literature. Booth suggested that he'd like to see her try and wondered aloud whether she would be prepared to kiss him to turn him back into a guy again...and while he was in the libidinous realm, he also requested a photo of her in her academic regalia, long black robes, black mortar board hat...nothin' but lingerie underneath... The conversation had turned M rated from that point on. Brennan with additional data about Booth's preferences and proclivities from their time together on the Babymoon, decided to spice up the conversation to the point where Booth, ears flaming and pulse racing, switched the video call over to a headset and switched off the speakers in the Comms cubicle. The memories of her inhibition-free teasing, cooked up by her imagination, sprinkled with enough love and sincerity to remove any sordid tang, were like a bowl of winter oatmeal; staying warm and hopeful in his belly, on those freezing Afghani desert nights as the days counted down toward their being re-united again.

* * *

Making her way through the muddy campsite to the computer terminal to make a scheduled call to Booth, the heavens opened once again and a downpour hit the tree canopy loudly, seconds before drenching any part of her which wasn't protected by the _'borrowed'_ over-sized camouflage jacket that she would wear around camp when it was raining. It was now the wet season, so she wore it over the top of her denim overalls, which had adjustable side fitting buttons to accommodate a belly that an Italian Tenor would be proud of.

Ignoring the fact that she was soaking wet, she smiled to herself, recalling the day at the airport following her farewell to Booth, when in a shock of realisation, she had discovered that she was still wearing his camouflage jacket. He had headed off to the departure gate wearing another variant of his regulation uniform for travel. Eileen had then disclosed that Booth had told her that he intended for Brennan to take the jacket, she struggled against being overwhelmed by another hormonally-fuelled meltdown. Her colleague had simply gathered her into a comforting hug and allowed Brennan to sob her way back to rational sobriety. Booth was generous to a fault, even though he had later admitted that he was too far up the Ranger food chain to attract any serious grief for his minor transgression.

.

"What the hell happened to you, Bones?" asked Booth, as her bedraggled visage appeared on his screen.

"I was caught in a deluge, Booth," she replied, using a microfiber cloth from her pocket to dry herself off. "There is a storm forecast for this morning; I'm surprised that we have a satellite connection at all. The signal is particularly temperamental during heavy rains. Your image is very distorted."

"No kidding? You look fine from this end, but maybe you should go and change, or something," he suggested.

She gave him a withering look. "It is only water, Booth. Plus, after I'm finished with our call, I will be taking a shower before we head to the airport."

Booth gave a smile. "So, Hodgins is springing for the private jet to take you to Australia?"

"Yes," replied Brennan. "There is a regional trade conference being held in Indonesia this week. Hodgins tells me that the Cantilever Group have a team of Executives who will be attending and making visits to a number of their South-East Asian investment interests."

"It's a great jet, Bones. It has a bedroom and everything..." he said in a suggestive tone.

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Even if you were available, my current condition is probably not conducive to in-flight sexual activity."

Booth gave a bark of laughter. "We'd find a way, right?"

"I am not so sure." Brennan stood and turned side on to the webcam; she unbuttoned the denim overalls and pulled up her t-shirt to expose her belly. "I find myself becoming increasingly restricted by my size, I have developed some unattractive stretch marks, and my umbilicus has become deformed."

"Hey! That's my _'Guys & Dolls'_ t-shirt..." exclaimed Booth, "...and you are incredibly sexy in it, by the way," he added smoothly.

"Well, I don't feel very sexy. In fact, I am looking forward to becoming re-acquainted with my toes," grumbled Brennan.

"It's one of many things to look forward to… Aww, your belly button has turned into a cute _'outtie'_, Bones! You'll have to send a picture to Angela for the online scrapbook," he said. Angela had posted a couple of hundred of images and short videos online, that they both accessed more than they wanted to admit.

She rubbed at the place where her belly button used to be and frowned. "That image will not be appearing in the scrapbook. Just because I have to look at it, doesn't mean that I will inflict pictures of my deformed flesh on others."

.

"Hey, can you guess what I'm getting for Christmas?" he asked, trying to steer the conversation in a more positive direction as she re-arranged her clothing.

"If you are referring to your request for a photograph of me in lingerie and academic robes, I never agreed to that..." she replied, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

"No, Professor Bones. All I really want for Christmas…is you. I know that I can't have that, but I got us a twenty-minute call on Christmas Day!" he announced with a grin.

"You did?" she replied, brightening considerably at the prospect.

His smile widened at her reaction. "Yes, I did."

Brennan pushed away some damp strands of hair that were curling around her face as they began to dry. She gave a watery smile at her webcam. "Although I am accustomed to spending the festive season without family, now I find myself looking forward to Christmas Day, very much. Thank you, Booth."

Another deluge battered the roof of the demountable building, knocking out the satellite signal. Brennan sighed and donned her camouflage jacket, heading out to tackle the soggy path back to her private corner of Maluku.

.

* * *

Six hours later, Brennan was placing her passport back into her satchel and walking the short distance across the airfield with Eileen and Ella Haynes. The teenager was visibly excited about taking a flight on a private jet and her eyes were as large as saucers as she took in the sleek white aircraft; she grabbed Eileen's hand and squeezed it, making her mother chuckle.

The stairs had been lowered and the door was open to the Indonesian humidity. The three passengers were greeted by a petite Asian woman, who took their hand luggage and ushered them to their seats. There were four other passengers already on board, who were engaged in a conversation which was being drowned out by the noise of the jets. The door was closed, reducing the cabin noise level considerably. As Brennan adjusted the lap belt, she was interrupted by a man wearing the insignia of Captain.

.

"Welcome aboard, Dr. Brennan. I am Jerome Pitt, your Captain." At a gasp from Ella, he directed a film-star smile at the teenager. "Brad is my second cousin...The Cantilever Group is delighted to have you join our flight today. We will be making a short stop-off in Jakarta, refuelling, then heading down to Perth. Please let Alexis know if you need anything at all."

Ella stifled a small squeak and tried not to swoon, as the ridiculously good looking pilot shook hands with them all. She exhaled shakily as Jerome made his way back to the cockpit.

Eileen gave a groan. "Oh, Lord. My baby girl has discovered men..."

Brennan gave a low chuckle. "Our pilot happens to be a particularly attractive male though. Is his second cousin, Brad, the co-pilot?"

"Champagne?" asked Alexis, their cabin attendant, proffering a tray toward Eileen, as the aircraft engines began winding up.

Eileen nodded enthusiastically, and then frowned as the tray was offered to her daughter. "No way, young lady, let's keep some rites of passage for the future! Do you have something non-alcoholic for my daughter?" Eileen asked the attendant.

Brennan piped up. "Yes. I am also abstaining from alcohol, because I am pregnant," she stated indicating her obvious baby belly to the bemused attendant.

.

"Could I interest you in some sparkling grape juice, Sweetie?" asked a voice behind them. Angela Montenegro stood in the aisle, a wide grin on her face.

Brennan blinked and did a classic double-take over her shoulder, before unbuckling her seatbelt and leaping to her feet, almost knocking over the petite cabin attendant in the process.

.

"Angela!" said Brennan, stunned.

"We decided that we couldn't let you spend Christmas without some family this year..." said Hodgins, who had stood up when Brennan had.

"Hodgins!" said Brennan, still stunned.

"At least she remembers our names, Jack," drawled Angela. "My God, look at you Brennan! You look amazing."

"I look huge," countered Brennan.

"No, really, you look amazing. Trust me. Now give me a hug before we take-off," demanded Angela, holding open her arms, with tears beginning to run down her cheeks.

The friends embraced as well as the confines of the aisle and a baby belly would permit. Brennans' tears made dark marks on the pale silk dress that her friend was wearing, but neither of them cared. "I missed you, Ange. I can't believe that you came all this way...for me..."

"Bren, seriously? Not that we needed any other excuse, but Paris is cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey at this time of year. Along with some Christmas cheer, we decided that we need some sun and sand too."

Jack Hodgins cut through as they released their hug, planting a kiss on Brennan's cheek. "Wow," he said, taking in the changes in his friend and colleague.

Brennan looked earnestly at her friends, wiping at the tears on her cheeks. "I have no objections to your touching my gravid abdomen. Joey often responds to the stimulus."

"Aww, the poor kid isn't even born and he's already an experiment," quipped Angela, as she and Hodgins placed their hands over Brennan's belly anyway. Joey, having inherited the show pony nature of his cocky father, didn't disappoint.

"I think he likes us," said Hodgins, smiling up at Brennan.

Angela poked Hodgins in the upper arm. "Jack, you need to give me one of these...now!"

Brennan suppressed a grin and pouted. "Does this mean that you will be using the bed on this aircraft to achieve membership in the Mile High Club, Angela?"

Angela laughed, but didn't get a chance to answer, because Captain Pitt chose that moment to request that all passengers be seated in preparation for take-off.

There would be no D.C. snow for their Christmas this year; but with family around, it wouldn't matter.


	29. A Seriously Silly Season

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 29 - A Seriously Silly Season**

**.**

**Disclaimer:** BONES is owned by FOX, Hart Hanson and his team of awesomeness. No disrespect or infringement is intended.

**A/N: For those of you that hang out with me at Bonesology, you know that I'm hoping for a review rate of more than 1% on this chapter…Yes, the truth about fan fiction. I wrote a non-fiction piece on the site, exploring this, it's called **_**'The Fervent Wish in the Fanfic Writer.'**_

**This chapter is dedicated to MiniSkole – Happy Sweet 16****th****, baby!**

* * *

_Thursday, December 23rd 2010 - Swan Valley, Western Australia_

Brennan relaxed back onto the blanket that she had been sitting on during a picnic lunch with Angela and Hodgins. She gave a sigh and a groan of contentment, as she gazed up through the canopy of the Jacaranda tree that they chosen to sit beneath; its branches were almost obscured by the pregnant mass of tiny lilac blossoms which greatly outnumbered the leaves. The day was clear and bright, with a dry heat sitting in the nineties, it was almost 2 p.m., but the sapping heat was tempered by the shade of the mature trees and a light breeze that sent spent blossoms coasting on lazy zephyrs down to rest on the grass below.

.

"Did you have enough to eat, Sweetie?" asked Angela, the sounds of ice cubes rattling in a metal bucket indicating that the Artist was pouring herself another glass of the local Unwooded Chardonnay.

"I find myself in post-prandial nirvana. You may have to request assistance from the staff at the winery to have me winched off this blanket," replied Brennan in a moment of self-depreciative levity, her toes scrunching at the cool blades of grass that were ticking her bare feet.

Hodgins chuckled appreciatively and translated for his wife. "That would be a no to more food for our gastronomically sated friend."

"Correct," replied Brennan, giving another sigh as she shifted onto her side in a complex series of moves that accommodated her high round belly. The child within complained at the shift in gravity by poking her lower ribs with what Brennan knew to be an elbow. Joey had been stubbornly in a breech position for the past ten days, without the head of the baby engaged in her pelvis; breathing had become a little restricted lately.

Angela was sat against the trunk of the Jacaranda tree, a wine glass in one hand, her other hand sketching the vista of rolling hills, scored with the orderly lines of grapevines, mostly denuded from the recent harvest. Native and introduced tree species bordered the view in a riot of blossoming reds, orange and yellows. The giant Jacarandas framed the picture in the eye of the artist, the green and lilac foliage providing both colour and contrasting light and shade over the green grass.

.

"The light is amazing here," commented Angela. "I could draw and paint all day."

"And I could watch you doing it all day," said Hodgins with a toast of his wine glass toward his wife.

"The additional natural light is stimulating the rods and cones in your retina, which would undoubtedly enhance the artistic interpretations from your visual cortex," said Brennan, rearranging the flowing material of a summer maternity top that she and Angela had purchased on a _'shop 'til you drop'_ trip on the previous week. The trip had been punctuated by plenty of rest and bathroom stops, but the ladies had enjoyed themselves immensely.

Angela chuckled. "Oh, I assure you, my visual cortex is very happy, Brennan."

"Yeah, mine too...," quipped Hodgins, as he openly attempted to undress Angela using only the power of his stimulated visual cortex.

"Do the two of you need some time alone?" asked Brennan with a smirk playing on her lips. "Because, despite my circumstantial abstinence, I have no vicarious desire to watch you engage in coitus."

.

Hodgins laughed loudly at the thought.

Angela rolled her eyes. "Hodgins is just happy that he can sleep naked again. The heating in the bedroom of our Montmartre apartment is temperamental, and sleeping in the buff on the rug in front of the fireplace is so clichéd."

"Not to mention, potentially hazardous..." added Brennan in a serious tone.

"Ouch, don't go there, Dr. B," said Hodgins, flinching at the thought of stray embers.

"No, let's not," suggested Angela, taking an eraser to correct her drawing. "Y'know, I'm really glad we came here. The heat is dry and Texan, the skies are clear...my best friend is here, relaxed and looking the happiest that I've ever known her to be. It's Christmas; a weird summer _'tinsel melting in the sun'_ Christmas, but we get to celebrate the holidays together for once. Does life get any better?"

Brennan smiled at her friend. "On balance, I suppose that it doesn't. Usually, I spend Christmas in far flung locations with traditions that fall well outside the Western cultural norms of Judaeo-Christian belief systems...Booth asked you to come here, didn't he?"

"No, Sweetie, he did not. Although I could tell that he had ants in his pants, resisting the urge to bring it up," replied Angela.

"There was an infestation of ants at his base camp? Booth never mentioned that. Are the ants native to Afghanistan region particularly aggressive, Hodgins?" asked Brennan.

"Only if they're _Myrmica_ _metaphoricus_," chortled Hodgins.

"Oh, _metaphorical_ ants. I see. So if you say that Booth wanted to ask, then why didn't he?" asked Brennan.

"Just because he could have asked, didn't mean that he would. He was already blown away by the help that we gave him to get to see you at the dolphin sanctuary on his Liberty," explained the Artist.

Her friend gave a chuckle. "Booth explained the concept of being blown away in the vernacular. He also provided a very physical demonstration for my benefit."

"I'll bet he did. I'm sure that the 'benefit' was mutual," said Angela in a tone that was laced with implied innuendo.

Brennan nodded in agreement and rubbed absently at a spot on her belly. "Yes. It was, I experienced multiple orgasms. In fact, I am aroused by simply recalling the memory of it."

.

Hodgins choked, spraying his mouthful of 2006 Cabernet Sauvignon over the grass at his feet, trying to clear the small volume that he had inhaled into his airways in reaction.

Angela dissolved into laughter. "Hold onto that feeling, honey, it seriously needs to be channeled into your next book!"

"What?" asked Brennan, as her friends composed themselves. "Moments ago, you were clearly engaging in foreplay. Why can't I talk about sex?"

"Brennan, please...," said Angela with an eyebrow arched. "We were on the subject of Booth and our decision to come and spend Christmas with you. Hodgins and I discussed coming to Monkey Mia, but decided against it. You and Booth needed some time to adjust," she said with a meaningful wave of her wine glass toward the round abdomen of her friend.

The Anthropologist flashed a smile as she glanced down at what would no doubt prove to be a pivotal period of re-adjustment in her life. "Well, regardless of the decision-making process involved, I am very glad that you are here with me for the holidays. I consider you both to be an important part of my family."

"The feeling is mutual, that's why we're here with you on this beautiful summer day, sipping wine, not freezing our asses off in Paris...," said Angela.

.

Hodgins gave a start, as he spotted something in the grass. "Ooh! _Onthophagus gazella! _An African immigrant...let's take a look at you, my friend."

"Jack...winery, wine, relaxation with loved ones...as in _'not'_ a field trip," Angela said with a grimace at the bug he held between his fingers for inspection.

"How did it get here from Africa, Hodgins?" asked Brennan, reaching over for her bottle of water and peering at the bug.

"It's an introduced species," explained Hodgins."The Australian Dung Beetle Project ran until the mid-eighties, they control bush fly populations."

Angela recoiled slightly. "Ugh! That's a Dung Beetle?...that means it hangs around in..."

Hodgins smiled with boyish delight. "Yeah, poop. These guys...love poop. Especially cow dung, they love that stuff."

"I cannot take you anywhere, do you know that?" said Angela.

* * *

_Saturday, December 25th 2010 - Perth, Western Australia_

Christmas morning dawned hot and humid, and for the first time in a couple of weeks, Brennan felt relief. If she had been inclined to write a letter to Santa Claus, she would have asked for her unborn son to move his head away from her diaphragm. It was simply a coincidence that her Christmas wish had been granted, she glanced at the empty space beside her; well, one of her Christmas wishes. As she shifted in preparation to get out bed, she considered pragmatically that life was all about balance; breathing more freely was clearly going to come at the expense of her bladder that was now compressed by Joey's head.

After a shower, Brennan headed downstairs to the main living area of the Haynes' home. Dr. Phil Haynes was sat alone at the breakfast bar in the open plan kitchen, leafing through a magazine as he sipped at an espresso.

"Morning, Tempe," he said. "Merry Christmas! Mark and Caleb were up at 5:30, so the main madness is over. Everyone is out by the pool, except Jack and Angela; they're still in bed. I'm indulging in my second cup of coffee. Can I interest you in a decaf?"

"Merry Christmas, Phil," she replied. "A decaf coffee sounds like a perfect start."

.

Phil flipped his magazine closed and proceeded to put the coffee machine to work. He glanced up at Brennan, his eyes flicking over her with a quick clinical assessment.

"You've dropped." he commented, as he pulled a clean coffee cup from a cabinet.

"Dropped what?" she asked.

Phil gave a chuckle. "The head of your baby has fully engaged, Tempe. I can tell. In my line of work, it's a skill that comes in handy."

"Oh, yes," she agreed. "My respiratory embarrassment is much less pronounced this morning and my centre of gravity has shifted. I predict that I will be experiencing back pain soon, because I believe that Joey's spine is resting against my own this morning."

"Ha! You would know," commented Phil with a grin. "Eileen always used her physical anthropology know-how to monitor the position of all of our kids. It spooked my poor colleague who did her pre-natal care and deliveries. He stopped placing bets with her about the delivery dates and presenting position of the fetus after the third baby. I never met a woman as in tune with her body as my wonderful wife."

.

"And you know it, Philip Haynes. Keep talking, lover," said Eileen in a sardonic tone as she appeared, carrying an armful of discarded wrapping paper which she unceremoniously dumped into an empty box. "Ooh, Temperance, you've dropped!"

"I know," said Brennan. "Phil was telling me that he didn't deliver your babies, Eileen. Would it have made you uncomfortable?"

"Well, not really, but it was a close thing with our youngest," replied Eileen. "If it hadn't been for a fortunate series of green traffic signals, Caleb could well have been delivered by his father in the front seat of a Mercedes Benz."

Phil piped up. "My preference is to play the role of expectant father, when the babies involved are the ones that I made."

His wife snorted derisively. "Right, you _'made'_ them; a night of passion and contribution of ejaculate...What about the forty weeks of effort for each of them on my part?"

Brennan laughed at the exchange. "She has a point, Phil."

He handed Brennan her coffee cup with a smile. "I know. I just enjoy the benefit of being born with testicles, my dear."

* * *

By midday, token gifts had been exchanged and everyone had eaten far too much food to be interested in lunch. Brennan had retreated to the second floor balcony off her bedroom with her laptop to make her scheduled call to Booth. The past couple of weeks had been difficult for him, having lost two members of a team that he had trained, in a violent skirmish. He also missed Parker and Brennan acutely. The period between Thanksgiving and Christmas was his favourite time of year. She hoped that he had received his Christmas care package in time; the polite official at the U.S. Consulate had assured her that it would, when she deliberately leaned on a diplomatic connection to send it.

.

"Merry Christmas, Bones!" he said, as a Santa-hatted hunk in fatigues appeared on her screen. The smile on his face, along with the hat on his head, confirmed that he had indeed received his Christmas care package in time.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Booth. Have you been permitted to spend some time away from your duties today?" she asked.

"Eh, we're getting extra rations", he joked with a smile. "Did you get any nice gifts?"

"I have now that I'm talking to you...," she replied. "How about you?"

"Aww, Bones... Parker sent me a video of the Nativity play from his school. He played one of the Three Wise Men and they had live baby animals on stage; they all escaped the pen and caused a riot, it was classic."

"That sounds very entertaining," she said with a grin. "I sent Parker some rollerblades. Rebecca said that he had written to Santa to _'put his order in'_. Things have changed since I was a small child; Russ and I were strongly encouraged to phrase our letters as innocent wishes, along with reassurances that we had maintained an acceptable standard of behaviour."

"Yeah, naughty or nice, we did that too." Booth gave a laugh. "I guess kids are a little more demanding these days, maybe with the exception of Sweets, but they seem to know what they want at a much younger age than when we were kids, Bones."

"Do you think it will be worthwhile perpetuating the Santa myth with our son?" she asked seriously.

"I'll let you in on a little parenting secret, seeing as it's Christmas and all...," he said leaning in conspiratorially toward the webcam.

.

Brennan saw the light of mischief in his eyes, but played along anyway. "Is it a secret conspiracy, Booth? Because Hodgins is presently sleeping off his brunch next to the pool. Perhaps I should go and wake him..."

"Ha! No way!" he retorted. "This is just me letting you in on the club a year early. Y'see the whole Christmas thing, pretending to believe in Santa to make it special for kids; it's a heck of a lot of fun...for parents too. Making your kid smile, there's nothing quite like it."

"Then I find myself looking forward to next Christmas. Joey will have developed sufficient psychomotor skills to laugh at you in your Christmas hat!" she remarked with a laugh.

"You're in a feisty humour today, Bones. We'll have to be sure that Sweets doesn't scare the poor kid next year with that God-awful elf hat of his. Those ears are big enough to pick up NPR, they'd scare the shit out of poor Joey!" said Booth with a snort at the thought of the elf hat on the Psychologist.

She frowned as she considered the scenario. "I fail to see the relevance. Even if he is startled by Sweets' ridiculous hat, Joey will still be wearing diapers at that point."

"Fine. You get to change his poopy diapers next Christmas Day," he said. "Speaking of the little guy, how's he treating you? Still head butting you in the ribs?"

"No. He has turned, and as Eileen phrases it, _'assumed the position'_, which means that Joey's head is engaged in my pelvis," she informed him matter of factly, before standing to show the corresponding change in her shape.

.

"You're ready to drop, baby!" he said.

"Not yet. February. Approximately six weeks from now," she replied, deliberately ignoring his epithet.

"It could be earlier, you never know. The guys on base run a pool on due dates," said Booth.

Brennan gingerly lowered herself back onto the balcony, her pelvis complaining bitterly. "While I could do without the lower back pain at this stage, I prefer to stay focused on the thirty-eight to forty week timeframe. Plus, you shouldn't be gambling on the possible date of Joey's birth."

"Nah, I'm not allowed to bet on my own kid. That would be unethical," he said with a grin.

She smiled. "Speaking of unethical. Do you like your Christmas gift?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm totally blown away. Did Angela take the photo?" he asked. "Because it's everything I wanted...and then some. It's like a painting, with a hint of something..."

"Erotic...?" supplied Brennan.

"Yeah, but tasteful. To look at it, only I would know it was you. Give Angela a hug from me, okay?" he asked.

"That was the intention. Angela deserves more than a hug, she is very adept at interpreting my requirements, and yours too it seems," she replied.

.

"Did you get your gift yet?" he asked.

"Not yet, but I have everything that I could possibly ask for..." she replied, playing with the ring on her left hand. "...except your presence, of course."

"Same here. But it won't be long. You can dream of me, right?" he asked with a brow raised and a cocky grin.

"Provided that I _'can' _sleep, Booth. Insomnia has been troubling me. Sometimes...I experience anxiety, about becoming a parent. I very much want to succeed..." she admitted.

"Completely normal, even for geniuses. You'll have all that natural instinct kicking in. Lots of love for the little guy. Remember baby Amy at the hospital? It'll be a sure thing, you'll see!" said Booth reassuringly.

"I actually saw baby Amy last night, I even managed to hold her for a while after I persuaded Angela to relinquish possession of her for a few minutes. The baby went to sleep on my shoulder, it wasn't an onerous task. Perhaps I am worrying unnecessarily," she conceded.

* * *

Booth's Christmas gift arrived on the following Monday morning, which coincided with the departure of Angela and Hodgins, who were returning to Paris for New Year's. Along with a small stash of Hershey chocolate bars, the package contained a flash drive with audio recordings of Booth reading six bedtime stories, with a request to play them to Joey each night, so he would get used to his father's voice. With the simple tales of childhood looping at low volume on an iPod on her pillow; lying awake alone in the small hours somehow became just a little less lonely.

* * *

_Saturday, December 31st, 2010. Perth, Western Australia._

The year was rapidly coming to a close. For Brennan, it had been a frenetic year of pain, pleasure, loss, love, anguish and adoration. She had grown, and objectively, she was growing too. New Year's Eve celebrations were going to be low key for her this year. Abstention from alcohol was not really a reason not to attend a party, but the drop in her iron levels since leaving Maluku made her increasingly tired and irritated, as did the pressure of a precocious mini-Booth head on her beleaguered pelvic girdle. The days immediately following the departure of Angela and Hodgins had been spent between the blessed gravity relief of the Haynes' swimming pool, a banana lounge in the palm shaded area next to the pool, or dozing off pretty much anywhere. Although she had spent time working on reviewing thesis chapters and journal articles, her daily productivity had fallen to perhaps three or four hours of what she would classify as work.

.

At eleven-thirty p.m., Brennan was floating on her back in the pool, looking up at the stars; the muted sounds of merriment from the house and those of the neighbouring properties reached her ears through the water. With arms outstretched like wings and feet paddling intermittently, she relished the freedom from the dull aching that was making her miserable, and the sciatic pain that had been shooting through her left hip without warning for the past couple of days. Joey, for the most part, had been quiescent today, only giving half-hearted nudges and taps, as if in sympathy for the pain that she was already experiencing. This had changed since she entered the swimming pool, he had begun wriggling and fidgeting, just like his father. Making slowly over to the steps, she decided to take a break from floating, as she felt an attack of nausea and acid reflux threatening. Joey took opportunity to commence pummeling at her iliac crest for a few seconds as she reclined against the steps.

"Hmm...you appear to have ants in your pants..." she mused to her unborn son, trying out one of her new hyperbolic metaphors, with only the possums and other night fauna in the tropical garden as her witness. A rustling in the leafy undergrowth caught her attention, but she dismissed it, having become accustomed to the nighttime movements of the small foraging animals.

.

Eileen Haynes wandered out of the main house, holding a champagne flute. Letting herself through the gate into the pool area, she kicked off her shoes before sitting on the edge of the pool steps. Dipping her feet into the water to mid-calf, Eileen gave a sigh of a satisfaction.

"Are you waterlogged yet, Temperance?" she asked, her tone heavy with amusement.

"No," replied Brennan, as she pulled herself out of the water and sat beside Eileen on the step. "But my hips feel significantly better now. I may even be able to get to sleep tonight. This pool provides an excellent non-pharmaceutical pain relief."

The two women sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, listening to the voices of party-goers becoming increasingly raucous as midnight approached. Brennan put a comb through her damp hair which was drying into soft waves in the warm evening.

.

"We'll be doing the countdown to 2011 soon. Are you going to come inside and join us?" asked Eileen glancing at her watch, breaking the silence between them.

"Yes. Of course," Brennan replied, yawning. "I was considering calling Booth, if I can get through, and if I can stay awake."

"Use our landline, Temperance. You'll have a better chance of getting a decent connection," offered the elder Anthropologist.

"That is very kind of you, Eileen," replied Brennan with a smile. "I should dry off."

Both women made their way back toward the bright lights of the house, Brennan wrapping her still damp body in a colourful sarong. The temperature was still in the high eighties and it was pleasant to be a little cooler. Perhaps a dozen guests had shown up to celebrate New Year's Eve with the Haynes family; greetings were called out as they entered the main entertaining area of the house. Brennan grimaced slightly as she took the low stairs into the room, her left hip twinging in complaint.

.

The time was now only five minutes to midnight. Brennan calculated the time back in D.C. and turned to Eileen. "I should call my father. I believe that he would enjoy the paradox of a call from the future."

"What if your old man built a time-machine instead?" asked a familiar voice behind her.

She spun on her heel, ignoring the protesting pain from her pelvis, to see the sneaky old badass standing there in the flesh.

"Dad?" she said, aghast.

"Tempe?" he said with amusement evident in every line of his posture as he leaned casually against the doorframe. "Booth asked me to be on the lookout for strange guys who might try and kiss you at the stroke of midnight."

She gave him the withering look that usually preceded a 'don't treat me like a child' or 'I can take care of myself' rant. Max held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "I know that you don't 'need' any help, but Booth and I were on the same page for once...plus the cold in D.C. has being playing havoc with my knee..." he said with a melodramatic wince as he flexed his left knee experimentally.

Brennan smiled at his attempt to con her into submission. "Your knee pain would improve considerably if you lost fifteen pounds; you've put on weight since you moved into my apartment."

"Ha! You can talk. Look at the size of you. How many babies are in there anyway?" retorted Max, throwing his arms open. "C'mon, how about a hug for your old man?"

.

Father and daughter embraced in the doorway.

"I missed you, Dad," she admitted.

"I missed you too, Honey," he said with a sniffle. "Pregnancy suits you. Your Mom was just the same."

.

The one minute to midnight announcement came from Phil Haynes. He brought over champagne flutes, handing them to Max and his daughter. "Yours is sparkling apple juice Tempe. It's quite nice actually. I'm on-call tonight, so I'll be joining you in a sober toast."

Max sniffed at the contents of his glass suspiciously.

"Yours is French champagne, Mr. Keenan, I poured it for you myself," added Phil, with a toast of his own glass as the countdown began. Time waited for no-one.

.

"Ten." The number of fingers (or the number of toes) on the baby that this New Year would bring. Or more accurately, twenty-eight dancing phalanges.

"Nine." The number of months since she'd said 'No' to Booth.

"Eight." The number of months since she'd gathered her courage and changed her mind.

"Seven." The number of miniature dolphins that adorned the platinum and gold band on her finger.

"Six." The number of bedtime stories narrated by Booth on her iPod.

"Five." The number of weeks until her due date.

"Four." The number of months until she would see Booth again.

"Three." The number of people who would soon form the inner circle of her heart's desire. Her own family.

"Two." The number of people that Seeley Booth stubbornly insisted could occupy the same space while making love; despite the Laws of Physics that stated that it couldn't be done.

"One." The number of loneliness. The number of being alone. The number that she could never, ever, be again.

.

"Happy New Year!" rang out voices from within and without.

Max pulled his daughter into another spontaneous hug. "Happy New Year, Tempe," he said over the raucous din of revelers.

"Happy New Year, Dad," she replied. "I'm really glad that you're here."

"Me too! I hear the barbecued food in this part of the world is to die for..." he said with a grin.

Brennan rolled her eyes at that comment. "You should be more concerned about your cholesterol intake. I promised Booth that I would call him, Dad, beforee it gets too late in Afghanistan, so I should do it now. He'll be waiting up with the satellite phone," she explained.

"Okay, Honey, tell him _'Hi'_ from me," said Max giving the now empty champagne glass in his hand an appraising look. "I'll be on a mission to get a refill."

.

Brennan headed toward Phil's study, where she would be able to place the call away from the noise of the party. Having memorised the number sequence, she lifted the phone from the charging cradle and dialed. There was a pause before the tinkling electronic chimes announced that the connection was being attempted, followed by another pause, where she leaned against the wall of the study, intent on stretching away the dull pain that she knew would only be remedied by a hot shower and bed.

The muted ring tone came down the line, confirming that her call had connected.

.

His voice was a welcome sound, taking her mind off her lower back for the moment. "Booth."

"Happy New Year, Booth!" she said by way of greeting.

"And to you, Bones! It's about time that you made it to 2011," he joked, with Perth being a few hours ahead of Afghanistan.

"Max says _'Hi'_. He arrived a short time ago. Why didn't you tell me he was coming here?" she asked.

"Well. He never gave me a firm _'Yes'_ when I asked him. So I didn't want you to get your hopes up," explained Booth.

"That sounds familiar and predictable when it comes to my father," she mused. "Ouch!" she added.

.

"You okay, Bones?" he asked concerned at her hiss of pain.

"It's just my lower back. I'll be fine. I just need to go to bed," she reasoned.

"Oh, okay. So will you play my bedtime stories for Joey tonight?" he asked.

"Yes, I will...I do...oh! Booth, I have to go now." she said, her last words in a distracted monotone.

"Uh, yeah… Okay. You're tired, I understand," said Booth, trying to suppress his disappointment at cutting their chat short. "It's really late here, plus this phone call must be costing you a packet..."

.

She cut off his rambling. "No. Booth, you don't understand. I have to go. My waters just broke..."

"You're kidding me?" he responded reflexively.

"Why would I make jokes at a time like this?" she snapped. "Oh, no..."

"Bones...Temperance...get some help...What's happening?" he asked, sounding calm, but in truth, inwardly frantic. He heard a stifled sob.

"I'm bleeding...a lot," she whispered. Not only had she made an incorrect assumption about about number five on the countdown; Brennan realised suddenly that she'd been in labour since lunchtime.

.

"Listen to me, Bones," he ordered. "Get. Help. Now. Call out, scream, whatever...Do it. Now!"

He heard a thud, the crash of a glass breaking on a hard surface and a scream of pain as she experienced the shock of the first full force contraction. Dazed in the aftermath, perhaps twenty seconds later, she found herself on her knees, hearing footsteps approaching rapidly and the sound of Booth's voice squawking from the handset of the phone on the floor beside her. Attempting to reach for it, the edges of her vision darkened, then blackness engulfed her.

.

.

_"Bones...Bones! For Christ's sake answer me...Temperance...?" came Booth's voice. " Joey...?"_

* * *

**A/N #2: Hmm…a cliffhanger *naughty Skole* - So who wants an update for Christmas?**


	30. Happy New Year, baby

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 30 - Happy New Year, baby.**

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**Disclaimer:** No matter how much I lament the issue in these disclaimers, I do not own BONES. No infringement or disrespect is intended.

**A/N: Thank you all for the wonderful reviews, alerts, Tweets and messages. I have no idea what the review percentage was, because the stats on my account failed - FML! It really makes all the difference when trying to find some inspiration...and I was immediately inspired to dust off my planner and write this. Yes, I was bad. Several of you have reported me to Santa. The cliffhanger was mean...but as NatesMama rationalized; it was a natural cliffhanger - so I'm sticking with her excuse.**

* * *

The deep, dark place was quiet except for the sound of her rapidly beating heart. She knew that it was highly abnormal to feel nothing at all, but there didn't seem to be anything tangible enough to hold onto. It was as if she had detached from her world. Forcing panic down, her heart rate reduced from a gallop to a fast trot.

_'Good girl. You're safe. Focus on your breathing.'_

The voice was one that she knew, but couldn't quite place. The advice seemed sensible though; even though she couldn't really sense her breathing, she focused on it anyway. The sensation of cool air entered her awareness, in through her upper airways; her chest wall expanding as her diaphragm pulled downward.

_'I'll try to get a 16 gauge in the antecubital before the ambulance gets here. Stop shaking the vial now, Max, and give it back to me.'_

She realised that she was semi-conscious, was she ill? Someone was treating her. Her father was there.

_'Okay, twelve milligrams of dexamethasone for the baby's lungs. Sorry, Tempe; sharp scratches coming now.'_

A stabbing pain hit the outer aspect of her left thigh, which pinched and caused the _vastus lateralis_ muscle to flinch. No sooner had the pain receded, her left arm felt cold and the skin below the inner aspect of her elbow was stung and pinched. The darkness surrounding her was no longer pitch black; it had become a deep claret. She heard the voice of her father, reassuring someone, he was talking about her, about the baby. _The steroids for the lungs of the baby. Her baby._ Fighting the claret Universe, she felt a surge of adrenaline as she attempted to claw her way back to consciousness - it was like trying to grasp at Jell-O. She could hear Phil's voice, it was Phil. She focused on the voice which formed one side of a conversation.

_'Happy New Year to you too… Yup, no rest for the wicked! I'm on my way in with one of my patients. Brennan, Temperance... Yes, history under my antenatal patients... Correct, that's her. Thirty-five plus one, G-one, P-zero. We've got ruptured membranes. Known marginal pravia with some evidence of haemorrhage, more amniotic fluid than anything else. Presuming active labour, but she collapsed...vasovagal, I hope. Yeah, I know, I've started fluid resus and given twelve of dex IM... We were booked in for a vaginal delivery, but to be on the safe side, I'll need a double theatre set-up ready and a NICU cot on standby. Get four units cross-matched from her group and hold. Tell my gas man to be ready for a crash induction, not sure that the coags will come back in favour of a regional... Uh, oh. Got to go, she's coming around...contraction I think.'_

The claret began to shine a bright vermillion as noise and sensation returned in a tsunami. Her body felt like it was in the grip of giant red-hot pincers below her waist, as she was dragged back to consciousness on a wave of intense pain. Her eyes opened, momentarily dazzled by the down-lights on the ceiling; followed milliseconds later by her mouth opening to gasp in a deep breath. She struggled and strained as she emerged into reality. Feeling like her pelvis was being ripped apart at the symphysis pubis, she hollered her lungs out.

.

"Breathe through it Tempe, you know the drill," said Eileen's voice as she squeezed her eyes shut tight.

.

"Yeah, Booth. That's my girl, she's got a set of lungs, huh?" said her father's voice, relief palpable in his tone, as she pulled herself together and began breathing. Her back felt cold, hard tiles beneath it; her hands felt the damp towels that had been thrown down to soak up the mess.

.

"Good work, Tempe. Now open your eyes. Talk to me." said Phil.

"There's pain...pressure...oh, no...I'm bleeding..." said Brennan in sharp recall, finding herself drenched in perspiration.

"Yes and no," said Phil. "You appear to have bled when your waters broke, but there's nothing active with that last contraction. Regardless, Tempe, you're having a baby today."

"I concur. I feel a strong urge to push," she reported candidly, as she attempted to catch her breath and prop herself up.

Phil gave her a direct look. "Not the best suggestion, considering you're on the floor of my home office. Let's wait for the ambulance and a hospital bed. I suspect you've been in labour a while. When did the more intense pain start?"

"After lunch," she replied, glancing up as Eileen appeared with a pair of Paramedics. "I dismissed it as musculoskeletal pain and the Braxton-Hicks contractions that I've been having for many weeks now."

"Okay, so we may have less time than we thought," mused Phil. "I'm going to talk to the paramedics and we'll get you to hospital ASAP."

Brennan grabbed the front of Phil's polo shirt and pulled him toward her in an iron grip, her eyes narrowing in supreme irritation. "Perhaps you didn't hear me the first time," she growled. "I. Need. To. Push."

"Hoo, boy!" breathed Eileen, as she knelt down next to her friend. "I know that tone."

.

Brennan spied her father relating the events live to Afghanistan. "Dad! Give me the phone, I need to talk to Booth. Now."

Max handed the phone over, as Phil tried to reason with his patient. "You need to pant through the next contraction, okay? No pushing. I want to be sure you're not going to bleed again."

"Booth?" she snapped into the phone.

"Bones? You okay? I was so worried...", he began.

"I'll be _'okay'_ after I push this damned baby out," she sniped over the top of his words. "Tell Phil, I'm right."

"Phil says you've got to pant. No pushing yet. Just do what he says, okay?" pleaded Booth.

Brennan snorted in disgust at the males in her life ganging up on her. "I hate you, Booth. You and your damned _'super sperm'_...this is all your fault!" she ranted, thrusting the phone back at her father. "Fine. You've got one contraction, Phil. Take a good look down there - get a webcam and broadcast what you find to the freaking world if you like."

.

"There's a web cam here, Tempe...taking some pictures might not be a bad idea," said Max helpfully, as Phil took scissors to her now sodden swimwear. "Shall I...?" he began.

"If I even see a camera, it's going to get jammed into someone's ass...It's hyperbole, Dad!" she replied in a snarl."...and people call me too literal..." she muttered darkly.

"Okay, here it comes...," she said to herself and shut out everyone and everything around her to pant through the next minute of agony. Phil was ignored completely, as he made a cautious but deft examination between her legs.

.

Phil glanced at the paramedics. "Get the oxygen on her and radio the flying squad, this is happening here. No more fresh bleeding, thank Christ! Baby is at plus one, he's probably compressing the site close to the os that was bleeding with a shoulder."

"You don't have an epidural in that bag do you, pal?" asked Max hopefully of the Paramedic who knelt at his feet.

Phil shook his head. "We passed that road sign a few miles back, Max. I know it looks scary, but this whole process happens naturally all the time. Technically, I don't even need to be here."

"Come down here, Max," suggested Eileen. "There's less distance to fall if you pass out."

Max dropped down to the increasingly crowded floor. "I know all about that," commented the wily old crook, as he pointed at a small white scar on his hairline. "My head caught the stirrup on the way down in the delivery room when Russ was born." He was rewarded with a snort of laughter from Eileen.

.

For Brennan, the effort of not bearing down had caused tears of pain and frustration to pour down her face. Both of the Paramedics were ripping open packages and setting up equipment. An oxygen mask found its way over her face. She turned to Eileen and gripped her wrist.

"Next time, I can push?" asked Brennan, swiping at her face with her free hand, almost disconnecting the IV line in the process.

Phil asked Ella to run to the linen closet and organise some damp cloths.

"No!" objected Brennan, pulling the oxygen mask off her face. "Send someone else. Can Ella stay?" she asked, imploring as she held out her spare hand.

Eileen took note of the looks being exchanged and made an Executive decision, making eye contact with a house guest who trotted off to arrange the damp cloths. "Ella stays. Temperance, when you feel the next contraction, take a big breath and push. Give it all you've got, kiddo. You can do this..."

"I can do this. I have to do this," agreed Brennan. "Dad...come sit behind me. I'll need all my strength to push. You can support my torso."

Max froze. Eileen grabbed the phone from his hand. "No time like the present, Max," said Eileen, smiling at the old crook as he began bickering with his daughter about how he should position himself. Ella thoughtfully presented a chip of ice to Brennan from the glass of soda that sat next to her knee.

.

Eileen spoke into the phone. "Booth? You still there?"

Seeley Booth was walking toward the main tent, hoping to get onto a Comms station. The night was getting cold, fast, but he could have been standing butt naked in permafrost at that moment for all he cared.

"Yeah, I'm here. Is Bones gonna be okay? Why does she hate me?" he asked.

"Ah, you were just on the receiving end of some transitional stage behavior. If you'd been here, she probably would have punched you out. Completely normal. Women have been birthing for eons, Booth. It's nothing that three or four decent pushes won't cure," retorted Eileen, getting a flash of a grin from Brennan who now looked eager to get the whole thing over with.

"Great!" said Booth sardonically in response to the Anthropological smack-down.

.

Max was looking decidedly uncertain as he peered over the shoulder of his daughter. He was handed a damp flannel and ordered to wipe his daughter's face.

"I'm going to put this phone on speaker now," said Eileen. "Can you count to ten, Sarge?"

"Yeah, can't everyone?" he asked. "Why?"

Eileen rolled her eyes. "Because you're going to make yourself useful and help me count Tempe through the hard part."

"Wait, what?" came Booth's voice thought the speaker.

"Just count, Booth. I'm not waiting..." Brennan ground out.

.

Phil felt the surge under his hand resting on her abdomen, knowing it was show-time. "Big breath and push," he said as an unnecessary reminder.

Taking a deep breath Temperance Brennan considered, in a detached fashion, that she had been able to count to ten from a very early age. Focusing on the voices doing the counting, she heard her small lisping child's voice counting along inside her head, a single island of calm in a world of pain as she purposely increased the pain further by bearing down. Getting stabbed, shot and beaten up had nothing on this.

One...

...Two...

... ...Three...

... ... ...Four...

... ... ... ...Five...

... ... ... ...Six...

... ... ...Seven...

... ...Eight...

...Nine...

Ten...

Letting go from the count was like surfacing from underwater, her head swam with dizziness, she gasped for air, the noises sounding strangely amplified by the mask on her face. She wanted to make sense of the cacophony of words around her, but the pain and pressure wouldn't let her. Cool sensation rushed over her face as the damp cloth crossed her forehead and the voice of her father repeated his words of praise to the two year-old who had counted to ten.

_"Great job, Honey. Now do it again."_

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Filling her lungs with another giant breath, like a drowning man. She was pulled back under into the maelstrom of pain that stabbed and pulled and stretched and burned all at once.

Another cycle began. Counting to ten again. And again. Then yet again.

.

Then the burning receded as she let out a primal scream on the count of ten and began gasping her way back to centre stage in the theatre of life.

"Is it over?" she asked, pulling off the oxygen mask. Uncaring of the indignity of the hands and eyes that were trained on her nether regions.

"Not quite," said Phil. "We've got a head with Daddy's dark hair and a cute little face. Just checking for any cord around the neck...okay, we're clear."

.

_"Whoo hoo! We've got a head, baby!"_ yelled the voice of Seeley Booth, which was followed by wild applause and cheering coming through the speaker of the phone. Every person in earshot of the speaker laughed. Even Brennan cracked a smile.

"Thank you, Afghanistan!" said Phil trying to stay professional. "Tempe, I know you're tired, this next push needs to be super-human, not like last time - The Incredible Hulk, all grunt and muscle, more of a superhero with style...like Wonder Woman, okay?"

Brennan pouted thoughtfully. "I can do Wonder Woman!" she replied simply.

_"Oh, she certainly can..."_ said Booth's voice from the phone.

She gave a smile at that comment. "You see? I told you."

.

"Sounds like a story for another time," said Phil in a wry tone, wishing he'd used a sporting metaphor instead. He was distracted by suctioning out Joey's nose and mouth. One of the paramedics put down a clean drape down to _'catch'_ the baby.

There was no counting, just Phil's voice, directing _more…more…less…more..., _in a monologue to a silent, entranced audience.

.

Upstaging everyone present, Joseph Brennan Booth took his first breath, and the spotlight, and began hollering for all he was worth. Taking the squalling newborn and half wrapping him in the clean white cloth, Phil leaned forward and placed the small, but otherwise healthy bundle up onto his mother's chest.

"Congratulations! A healthy boy," announced Phil. "He could have a career as a drill sergeant with those lungs."

_"Hell yeah! A son!"_ roared the voice from Afghanistan, with cheers and _'Hell-yeah's'_ echoing loudly until Eileen turned the speaker down a little.

Brennan was completely absorbed in the still squawking scrap of humanity that had been placed on the still-damp skin of her chest, her arms had wrapped around the bundle of cloth and baby instinctively.

"Don't cry, Joey. I'm here...Mommy is here," she said in a low voice. Then she almost recoiled in surprise when her son quit crying and speared her heart with the look that she had forgotten was coming. The look was a bond, an instinct, love, a greeting, an introduction. All the pain was a distant memory.

"He's perfect, Booth," she called out before dissolving into tears herself.

.

Max stroked his daughter's hair as she wept and called out to Booth. "Yeah, he's perfect. And you must be some sort of God, pal, because the family jewels on this kid are frikkin' huge!"

.

Eileen pulled out her iPhone, wiping away tears of laughter. She placed a hand on Brennan's. "If I take a photo now and text it to Booth, can I ask that you don't follow through on your earlier threat to jam it up my ass?" she asked.

Brennan nodded and smiled, still crying a little, but not wanting to break the gaze that had caused her unaccountably and inexplicably, to fall in love at first sight.

.

Dr. Philip Haynes clamped and cut the umbilical cord as his patient was distracted by her newborn. He exchanged a look with the Senior Paramedic, who was frowning at the blood loss.

"Keep some traction on that cord," he instructed. "Let's get this sideshow up to the hospital."

As the gurney was wheeled through to transport mother and child, Booth received his first photo with the message:

'_Stay sober. Going to hospital. Still bleeding'_

_

* * *

_

**A/N: Go on...flame me...you know you want to! You'll still be getting a chapter for Christmas, so no more protests to Santa Claus...**


	31. Look what I can do!

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 31 - Look what I can do! **

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**Disclaimer:** I do not own BONES. But it's Christmas and I'm apparently supposed to wish that this were true.

**A/N: Welcome to the promised Christmas update...wherever you are, whoever you're with; relax, be happy, enjoy. Merry Christmas!**

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* * *

_New Year's Eve - 22:30 hours - Mess tent 75th Rangers -1st battalion, Afghanistan (Classified location)_

New Year's Eve celebrations for the Rangers unit had taken on an extra special flavour after Sergeant Seeley Booth had burst into the Mess area with news of an imminent birth. He'd spent many anxious minutes outside the tent, waiting for Bones to get help, for reassurances to arrive, to finally hear her voice demanding to speak to him. Okay, she'd completely ripped him a new one and told him that she hated him; but she was clearly under duress. When Phil announced that things were happening then and there, Booth unleashed his hopes, sharing the news and excitement with the guys.

.

Word spread fast. The audience for Sarge's blow by blow commentary of the events occurring on a different day, on a different continent, attracted a couple of dozen guys, including some of the brass. The presence of an armed forces cheer squad on his end of the call had somehow made him feel less disconnected from the event that he was missing. He still wasn't there, but as far as Booth was concerned, it came close.

The vocal and very masculine celebration on the Afghani end of the sat-phone connection balanced the earthy feminine one happing on the Australian side. Hearing the cries of his new son, Booth sat down stunned onto a bench and had a cup thrust into his hand. It contained a generous dose of a strong and expensive liquor. One of his other colleagues attempted to poke a cigar into his still gaping mouth. He glanced up to thank his C.O. Slippy, who proceeded to heartily clap Booth on the shoulder, almost knocking him onto the floor.

.

The photo arrived via Booth's cell phone, while he was listening to the events on the satellite phone. They were hastily preparing to get Bones transported to the hospital, even though the main event was over. Opening the image was a moment that he would never forget. Her face had an expression which said _'Wow, look what I just did!'_ - the captured moment was candid, but she'd been looking directly at the camera and it felt like she was communicating something special to him alone. Bones looked immensely proud, totally exhausted, overflowing with joy and completely stunned all at once. Joey had grasped her index finger and was transfixed on his mother's face; covered in patches of waxy white vernix, the baby appeared impossibly small and delicate.

.

Booth passed the cell-phone displaying the photo around the Mess and took a hefty snort of Slippy's top-shelf schnapps, completely missing the attached text message in the process. By the time his cell-phone had been returned to him, he had said a brief farewell to Bones and Eileen as they were loading her and Joey into the _'flying squad'_ ambulance, that was purpose built to transport premature newborns. Wearing a wide grin, he decided to forward on the photo and the happy news to everyone on his contacts list. It was only when he selected the _'forward'_ option on the message that Booth saw the text from Eileen. The grin fell off his face. Sounds of merriment receded into the distance as the cold fear of imminent danger gripped him.

.

* * *

_New Year's Day - 01:30 hours Perth, Western Australia_

The chirps of electronic monitoring devices sounded overly loud in the deserted hospital corridors. Brennan, strapped securely for transport, glanced anxiously over her shoulder as she heard Joey begin to arc up into a wail that threatened to rip her metaphorical heart out. The incubator cot in the ambulance had permitted her to maintain eye and skin contact with her son, but now she felt a wave of helplessness wash over her. Clearly, her reaction had been captured on the monitoring equipment, because Phil took a couple of fast steps to catch up with the gurney that she was being transported on and touched her shoulder.

"Just a short lift ride upstairs, Tempe. Once we get to theatre reception, we'll get the little guy attached for a feed to settle him down, okay?" explained Phil.

She pulled the oxygen mask down from her face. "Okay." Phil extended a hand and put the mask back in place before they entered the lift.

The lights were subdued in theatre reception, apart from one cubicle that was set up to receive the patient. Within seconds of being wheeled in, half a dozen staff seemed to have appeared from nowhere. Joey stopped crying when a midwife removed him from the incubator cot, then promptly began wailing again minutes later as he was placed naked on weigh scales before being transferred to an open heated cot to undergo a cursory assessment. Brennan was moved onto a wider trolley, the shock of the cool sheets making her squirm uncomfortably. The staff blurred around her, making introductions, poking and prodding, taking observations, and saying things that she barely registered as she focused only on the welfare of her baby. What remained of her clothes were cut off and she was covered by a gown and a pile of blissfully pre-warmed blankets.

.

Joey arrived bundled up and still making unhappy half-cries in the arms of a Midwife who gave a big smile. "Congratulations on your new baby! Now it's show time. This little one is unsettled, but we can fix that very simply. Shall we see if he'll latch on for a feed? We'll give you assistance to get him attached, seeing as you're hooked up to the monitors, and we also need to keep you rugged up to keep your temperature up," she explained.

Brennan nodded and another warm blanket was tucked behind her shoulder as a second nurse helped to expose enough of her breast to make feeding possible. The Midwife made short work of the attachment process by expertly lining up baby and breast and tickling his cheek to stimulate his rooting reflex. The sensation was bizarre, as the newborn latched on and began feeding like a pro. Another milder contraction made Brennan hiss with pain after around 30 seconds, but she focused on keeping her arms cradling the amazing small human, who was gazing at her and now suckling industriously.

.

Phil had changed into scrubs and made his way into the cubicle five minutes later.

"Five pounds and eight ounces. Not too shabby for a thirty-five weeker, Tempe. How do you feel?" asked Phil.

Brennan pulled the oxygen mask off again. "Like I just climbed Everest, then fell down the other side," she replied. "Why are we here? I'm still having pains..."

Phil leaned in for a peek at Joey happily feeding and smiled. "Well we've got to be cautious. Your blood loss is bordering on unacceptable, so I'm recommending that we do the placental delivery in theatre, possibly with a short-acting anaesthetic, so that I can intervene to reduce your bleeding if things get out of hand."

"Things might get out of hand?" asked Brennan, stroking a tiny hand that Joey had managed to Houdini out of his wrappings.

"I hope not. But it's possible that a small portion of the placenta will remain attached, which will cause bleeding and introduce infection risks. We'll take you into the operating theatre, my Anesthetist will give you some sleeping gas and a light sedative, I'll check everything out and you'll be sitting up having a cup of tea an hour later. Your father offered to sign the consent form, but I think that you're up to it, don't you?" asked Phil.

"Yes. I am competent to sign my own consent to the procedure." She glanced down as she felt Joey detach from her breast. "Oh, he's asleep already."

Phil chuckled and the Midwife who was completing paperwork in the cubicle looked over. "He's probably a bit too well wrapped. We've got time to unwrap baby to rouse him a little and swap sides. Then you'll know he will be well settled while you're in theatre."

"That sounds reasonable, and his name is Joey," said Brennan, permitting the Midwife to come around and assist in the repositioning. She unwrapped Joey who had been put in a diaper and a teeny cotton hospital shirt, directing Brennan to tickle his feet to wake him. Sure enough his eyes popped open and he began wriggling and immediately looking for comfort and sustenance, which was provided in short order. He gave a cute little snort and settled in for his second course.

.

"He's adorable," said the Midwife. "Do you want me to take some photos?" asked the Midwife. "Most of the time, we've got the family Paparazzi capturing every second of the action around here."

"That sounds like a good idea," said Phil. "I promised Eileen that I'd text Booth with an update, so I'll let him know you'll be sending an email. I'll do that now before I get scrubbed."

Brennan nodded, acknowledging Phil. "Can you send the photos electronically from here? His father is in Afghanistan," she explained to the Midwife.

"Sure. My little brother is over there too, with the SAS. Those tough army guys are the biggest suckers for baby photos on the planet," said the Midwife grabbing the camera that was on her trolley. "Do you have the mailing address?" Brennan rattled off the e-mail and it was duly entered into a window on the laptop that was also displaying her vitals.

"Okay. Big smiles for Daddy...!" The photos were taken and Brennan requested a brief message be added, the content made the Midwife smile.

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_New Year's Eve - 23:30 hours - Comms section 75th Rangers -1st battalion, Afghanistan (Classified location)_

Booth had received a text from Phil, telling him Joey's weight and letting him know that all was stable, but that minor surgery would probably be required to manage any ongoing bleeding.

Breathing a sigh of relief he went to access a terminal in the Comms section. Sure enough, his e-mail awaited.

.

_Booth,_

_I'm going in for a minor procedure soon, but I wanted to let you know that I've fallen in love with a younger guy...I hope that you don't mind. I've enclosed some photos of us, so that you can see how well we have bonded already._

_I think you'll agree that he holds a great deal of fascination for my breasts; but this doesn't in any way support your theory about their magical powers. Joey has your facial structure, your hairline, my ears and my blue eyes...his preference for pie remains to be seen. We should arrange a video conference for mid-afternoon here, today, so the two of you can be introduced._

_Love from both of us,_

_Bones and Joey_

.

Booth was trying not to tear up when he saw the photos, but when he saw the proud _'Look what I can do now'_ grin of pure joy on her face, cradling Joey's head to her breast in one hand and holding up a tiny foot in the fingers of her other hand...he knew. He knew Bones was going to be a fantastic Mom, a natural, just like he'd always said. Booth also knew as he put his face into his hands, that there were times when it was okay for a guy to cry. This was one of them.

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**A/N: Merry Christmas...I hope Santa brings you lots of updates, and me a couple of reviews - **_**Hahahaha!**_** Stay safe and warm...that won't be a problem here, it will be over 100 degrees for our Christmas Day!**


	32. Thief of Hearts

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 32 - Thief of Hearts**

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**Disclaimer:** I do not own BONES. No infringement or offence is intended.

**A/N: The final chapters of this story are here...it has turned out to have been a lovely diversion from Season 6. I'd like to get it wrapped up while I'm still on vacation, so that means a few more chapters in the next ten days. Thank you for the wonderful following, even from the thousands of lurkers (and you know who you are!). I never dreamt that something that I wrote would end up pushing 100,000 words and 1,000 reviews. Happy New Year to you all! This is especially for EmmyMayyy - because she is a 'cheeky-chops' (and I've managed to put her off childbirth...) :D**

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_January 1__st__ 2011 – 05:30 hrs_

The voice of the man silhouetted at the window of her hospital room was a soothing monologue that attempted to tempt her back into an exhausted slumber. The combination of lingering anaesthesia on top of the fact that she'd just completed the marathon of childbirth was a reasonable excuse to do precisely that. Brennan forced herself to stay awake and listened to her father's one way conversation with the small bundle that he was holding, while she took a sip of water and began removing the tape that the staff had put over her rings before going into the operating theatre. The procedure had been necessary to stop further haemorrhage, but had been very short in duration. A small squeak from the baby and Max's warning not to wake his Mommy just yet made her smile.

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"If you're plotting an escape attempt with my son, you know I'll have something to say about it," said Brennan in a voice still slightly hoarse from the anaesthetic.

"But he's just so darned cute, Tempe. You couldn't blame his Grandpa for trying," replied Max.

"Is he still sleeping?" she asked sitting herself up in bed and grimacing at just how sore she actually felt.

Max stepped away from the bright pre-dawn light at the window and approached the hospital bed, where she was attempting to sit up on the side of the bed. "He's wide awake. Are you okay, Honey? Do you want me to call the nurse? he asked, a note of concern in his voice. The baby cradled in the crook of his arm gave a jittering wail of complaint.

"No. All I need is my son," she replied holding out her arms. Max complied silently and watched on as she took Joey and placed him centrally on the bed and began unwrapping him, just touching him; the incredibly soft and warm skin, those tiny Boothy feet, his long Brennan fingers in miniature, right down to almost impossibly small fingernails. Her son, freed from his wrappings, flailed his limbs experimentally. "How long has he been awake?" she asked her father.

"Only ten minutes, Tempe. You were out to it for couple of hours at most. They brought him down from the nursery maybe a half hour ago," replied Max. "He's only being eyeing off my chest for the past five minutes."

She gave a laugh and glanced at her father and then glanced down at her own chest. "Very funny," she said wryly, before being distracted by the warm wriggling infant under her hand. "He looks so much like Booth...you look very much like your father," she said to her son, who just stared back at her, before screwing up his tiny face and giving a wail.

"His lungs remind me of when you were a baby. Your mother always thought you'd be a singer...", said Max over the top of the small wails, which were half-hearted, but threatening to unleash Baby-Booth-Hell on everyone in earshot.

Brennan was so engrossed in the small squirming, and somewhat noisy scrap of Boothiness that she completely missed her father's comment. She scooted back against the back of the raised bed and stuffed a pillow behind her back. "Would you pass Joey to me, please? I'm still a little sore."

"Sure, Grandpa Max to the rescue," said Max with a laugh. "C'mere little one, tell us what you want."

He lifted Joey up and found Brennan putting a pillow on her lap and moving to undo the shoulder fastening of her hospital gown. "The _'n'_ sound in Joey's cry indicates that he is hungry," she said, taking the half-wrapped infant and positioning him on his side and preparing to attempt her first solo feed. "Ah ha! That is very effective." The cries had stopped and Joey was instantly as contented as an FBI agent with a slice of pie.

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"You can tell that?" asked Max with a note of disbelief.

"Yes," she replied, lightly covering Joey's torso against the cool air of the room, but removing his partially dislodged hospital beanie cap to expose the dark wavy hair that covered his head. Her fingers ran gently over his head, she could feel the bony plates and the soft fontanelle at the crown of his head. "I was introduced to the concept of _'baby language' _by Eileen's sister. Further research on the subject revealed that it is based upon a sound scientific and linguistic framework, so I added it to my studies."

"You shouldn't need to study how to be a Mom, Tempe," said Max gently. "See, you're a natural!" he added, waving his hand toward the contented baby.

"I know, Dad. But it's my process. I didn't believe that I would actually feel the way that I do now," she said wincing at a griping after-pain triggered by the feeding baby.

"And how would that be? You never give yourself enough credit when it comes to your own heart...I always wanted this for you," he said taking a seat on the edge of the bed and tucking hair that had escaped her loose ponytail behind her ear.

"I love him, Dad. I know that the overwhelming power of my feelings are due to the hormonal fluxes occurring in my body...but I don't care. Is this what _'love at first sight'_ is supposed to be like?" she asked Max, not fighting her teariness; realising that she was going to be a hormonal wreck for days.

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"Yeah, Honey, it is," said Max. "The first time it happened to me was when I saw your brother, just like this, in your Mother's arms. I'd just had five stitches put in my head after passing out in the delivery room, so I thought it was concussion, but the feeling never went away...and as far as I know, there were no hormones involved." Max gave a self-depreciating smile and kissed her temple affectionately, passing her a tissue that she just held between her fingers.

"Was it the same when I was born?" she asked in a whisper, her tears falling unchecked, looking into her Father's face trying to see the truth if she could.

"I'll never forget the day my baby girl was born," said Max reaching out to touch the tiny foot of Joey, almost as if the physical reminder could jog the old thief's memory. "Ruth was so wiped out; she could barely keep her eyes open. Your brother had been ill for a couple of days before you were born, and she'd insisted on getting up to take care of him at all hours. When she went into labour three weeks before her due date, she said nothing and spent a couple of hours quietly making arrangements; doing laundry, encouraging your brother to drink his juice so he could get better in time for the arrival of his new baby brother or sister. Y'know, the whole element of surprise has been ruined by those ultrasound thingies."

"I don't regret knowing Joey's sex," said Brennan, still sniffling a little, but distracted by the unfolding story. "Was Mom disappointed that I was a girl?"

Max gave a laugh. "No, quite the opposite. She was secretly hoping for a girl, but you were a big kicker and we were convinced that you were a boy."

"Really? She asked with a small grin.

"Really," he replied. "Anyhow, your Mom was fixing lunch in the kitchen, when her waters broke and the game was up. We had a fight because she wanted to clean up the mess and I wanted to get her to the hospital. Finally, she agreed to let me clean up the mess, while she got ready to go to the hospital. Our neighbour came over and took your brother to play at their place; fortunately he had a crush on the little girl that lived there, so he didn't take any convincing. We were damned lucky to make it to the hospital in time. Your Mom was already exhausted, but she was a real trooper. The doctors wanted to do a Caesarian, because you were breech when they'd examined her on the week before and they insisted on doing all these examinations and tests. Your Mom wouldn't let anyone near her...she punched out the Anaesthetist and told the doctor _'I don't care which way my baby comes out, it's coming out now'_. She was so damned determined to prove them all wrong; sure enough, ten minutes later, you were born."

"I was a breech birth?" she asked.

"Nope. You'd pulled your act together and came out head first, healthy and hollering," said Max. "We were so damned happy. You were a cute little bundle with a head full of copper hair; your face was the spitting image of mine. Your Mother was crying because she had the little girl that she'd always wanted...a girl to pass her ring on to. That's why we decided to call you Joy."

Max bit down on his lip, pausing in his recollection; just as Joey released a sleepy sigh and detached himself, eyes closing and tiny lips still making little sucking noises.

"Time for a burp," said Brennan in a light tone she didn't feel. She shifted Joey onto her chest until his head was nestled under her chin. She began rubbing and patting his back in the way she'd had the opportunity to practice with baby Amy recently, in the way she'd recalled doing with baby Andy so long ago now.

Max focused on the hand wearing Ruth's ring that took him back to all the times that he'd seen a hand wearing that ring, circling and patting the back of a baby; with her left hand splayed stationary over a diapered butt, wearing the gold band that spoke of their fierce love for one another. That love had driven them to make decisions that had destroyed them and their family, decisions which had ultimately killed his wife. Max had never hoped that he could see past the regrets. But seeing Tempe, here, now, like this, gave him hope.

.

Then Max realised that there _was_ actually a gold band on the left hand of his daughter.

"I'm going to kill him...," muttered Max darkly.

"Kill who?" asked Brennan, glancing down at the slightly indignant face of her son, who chose that moment to let out a belch that belied his tiny frame. "I'd appreciate it you would limit your threats of violence around my son, he's not even a day old yet," she said with an eye roll.

"You married him, Tempe?" Max said, gesturing at the ring on her left hand. "Even if you didn't tell me, Booth should have. I thought the guy had some good old fashioned values, he could have at least done the right thing by me!"

Brennan gave a short laugh as she went about rearranging Joey for a second helping. The baby gave a squawk of complaint and his lower lip quivered as he set about a plan to start wailing. "A little patience please, Joey. I am as new to all of this as you are..." she said conversationally, before tickling his cheek the way the Midwife had shown her; his mouth opened and she managed to get him attached again, thankful that some of the theory that she'd taken on board and her endless questioning of Eileen about breastfeeding was paying off.

"You know how I feel about marriage, Dad," she said evasively, not really wanting to have this discussion with her father.

"I know how you used to feel...before Booth grew a set, before you managed to get yourself pregnant, before the two of you gave me a grandson," said Max trying to work through the latest twist in his daughter's life. "You're wearing a ring, Honey, and _you_ don't make those kinds of statements unless you mean them."

"You're right..." she said, trying to stay focused, but being dragged into a sweet current of overpowering love as the ring finger in question was grasped by Joey. "Things have changed. Motherhood will change me...is changing me. I didn't marry Booth. Well, not technically, or in the traditional sense that you're inferring."

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Max gave a long-suffering sigh, knowing how his daughter buried both her business and her feelings under mountains of logic and rationality. "Okay, so I _'technically' _don't kill Booth. But I know you Tempe. You've made promises to each other, more than just an agreement to share custody of your son. You'll be heading back to your old lives with a whole new set of luggage. You can't just unpack in D.C. and expect the details to just fall into place. Honey, you've got a family now."

"I know...and I know you love me, Dad. But what Booth and I have...is for us, I'm not ready to share that with others...it's too soon. I can barely reconcile that I have the capacity to love someone, that I could be…that I am, _'in love'_..." she huffed out a long breath as she focused on the tiny fingers gripping tight.

"As long as my Baby Girl is happy...that's all that really matters, right?" asked Max.

"I've never been happier, Dad," she replied, turning her face to look at him. The smile on her face provided all the reassurance he needed.

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**A/N: This chapter was just a moment that I just felt had to happen...next chapter is the Skype meeting with Daddy...bring on the fluffy goodness :D **

**As always, I'd be delighted to read your feedback! **


	33. Skype up your Life

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 33 - Skype up your Life**

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**Disclaimer:** BONES does not belong to me. No infringement is intended.

**A/N: As I post this chapter, the story is teetering on the edge of 1000 reviews. I'll let you know who posted the lucky review next chapter :D**

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_January 1st, 2011 - Undisclosed location - Afghanistan_

Sergeant Major Seeley Booth, thirty-something FBI Agent, sniper, father of two, had finally sacked out on his cot at just after 01:00 local time. He'd escaped the New Year's / new baby party, narrowly escaping being kissed by an amorous blonde embedded journalist at midnight; then escaping the clutches of a 300 pound giant of a Master Sergeant, intent on the same thing, he was trying to win a hundred bucks in the event that he managed to plant a kiss on the new daddy. Fortunately, Booth's satellite phone rang before anybody else managed to launch a lip attack in his direction.

Dr. Phil Haynes had called following the completion of the procedure that put a stop to the Brennan's bleeding issues. He took the time to answer Booth's questions; straight-up, man to man, no jibber jabber. The upshot was that Bones would be sleeping for the next few hours. His kid was slightly undersize on account of his early arrival, but in robust good health with a good appetite, according to the report from the nurse who had given him a small supplementary feed in the nursery, while the anaesthesia had taken his Mom off the menu. Phil told Booth to get some shut-eye and to be ready for a Skype hook up at midday, Afghani time.

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He awoke at 05:30 to the buzzing of his phone with a text message.

_Just had breakfast and showered. Cancel the BOLO for my toes, I've found them again! Joey and Max asleep. Will be ready for midday. Xx (representing kisses from me & from Joey)._

She had attached a photo of her bare feet on her hospital bed, the nails painted a feminine pink. Max was reclined in a chair in the background, slightly out of focus; his posture suggesting that snores were emanating. A wrapped bundle in a Perspex cot was also in view. A small face could just be made out; eyes, two small slumbering lines, a tiny button nose and pouting pink lips.

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Booth got up, showered and hit the Mess tent, checking that his midday slot for a Comms booth was booked. It was there, Slippy's scrawled signature authorising use of one of the larger Comms arrays that they used for their training missions; meaning that the sound and picture quality would be better using the full military bandwidth. Plus he could ask one of the tech-heads on his team to set up recording. He'd send it to Angela. His cell phone buzzed with another message.

_Your son just peed on his Grandpa. Max accuses you of putting him up to it and wouldn't permit photos. Max returning to house soon for shower & change. Xx_

Booth laughed his ass off. He sent a return text.

_Get some rest. Give Joey a kiss from me (too young for a high five). Love you guys XX_

_._

He spent the next two hours doing equipment inspections and ironing out the details for upcoming training missions. The next time that he looked at his cell phone, there were two messages.

_Max took this to prove that I am resting. Took a nap with Joey. Xx_

The attached image was of Bones, her face relaxed as she lay on her side in what he knew was deep slumber. She looked pale, and slightly puffy, with dark smudges of fatigue around her eyes. Her hair was loose in honest abandon, carefree over the starched pillow. Her forearm supported their tiny son against her chest, her hand curled around his head, gently cradling his black wavy haired skull. The sleeping face of his son had a Bones-like expression of seriousness as it rested skin-to-skin against his Mommy's chest, with a tiny hand semi-splayed against the swell of a breast. The candid scene displayed on the small screen of his phone made Seeley Booth want to cry, again. Max Keenan was apparently a Pro photographer. Who knew?

Fortunately, for a now slightly overwrought Booth, there was no photo with the next message.

_First poopy diaper. Inordinately large volume. Sent photo to Hodgins as he will be appreciative. I can only conclude that Joey has your guts. Xx_

Booth laughed so hard that he cried. _'Ship THAT back to the Jeffersonian, Bones!' _he thought. That day couldn't come soon enough.

_._

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When midday finally arrived, Booth had been sat restlessly jiggling his legs waiting for Corporal _'Mac' _McVicker to finish getting his geek on. Booth had warned Mac that he could stick around for the technical stuff, but ordered him to avert his eyes for any breastfeeding stuff, and keep any displays of manly tears strictly classified. Mac snorted and told _'Sarge'_ that he'd buy him a bottle of _Jack_ if he managed to cry as much as he had done when his own twin daughters had been delivered six months earlier. Mac was busy showing Booth baby photos when the console pinged to alert them to the incoming call. The Corporal raced back to his console and hit a key, covering his eyes with a mock whimper. Booth flipped him the bird before the screen sprang to life.

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He felt like he was peering into the cot on-screen. Somewhere under the small mountain of blankets and cotton wrappings lay his son. The image moved to show a white cotton beanie, then a small pink and white face, a fist was jammed against his lips and being heartily sucked upon.

"Hey, Mac? Have we got sound?" asked Booth. Mac gave the thumbs up and shrugged.

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"Yes, we have audio," came the disembodied voice of Brennan. "I was being quiet so that you could observe Joey waking up. See how he responds to my voice?" she asked. Booth could hear the pleased smile plastered over her last statement.

Sure enough, as she spoke, Joey cracked open an eye and yawned around the fist in his mouth before returning to sucking on his phalanges. His eyes closed again. Booth saw a familiar hand enter the frame. It pulled back the blankets and her other hand appeared to peel apart the mass of wrappings. A small electronic thermometer appeared and she lifted Joey's arm and tucked the device under it.

"Is he okay?" asked Booth. "Has he got a fever?"

"He's fine, Booth," she replied. "Joey has to have his axillary temperature measured prior to being cleared to have a bath. His very first bath."

"Wow! You didn't have to go to all that trouble. He looks clean enough to me Bones," he said.

"Ha! We haven't taken his diaper off yet..." she shot back with a laugh.

"Yeah," he said with a chuckle. "Hey, thanks for the messages and photos. It feels like I'm there. Are you gonna show yourself, Temperance? I know you can see me."

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"If you insist," she said in a crisp tone. "I thought that you might be more eager to see our son first. I'll ask Ella to take over the camera."

"I am. But I wanna see you too, okay?" he said. "I've been worried about you." The camera jolted and shifted a little until she came into the frame; bent over the cot, her hair scraped back into the businesslike ponytail that she wore at the Lab. She had some sort of dark blue satin happy coat on which made her skin look like porcelain and her eyes luminously large.

She lifted up the tiny baby for a moment, so he could see them both, looked up at the camera and gave a big smile. "Hi Daddy!"

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Booth covered his nose and mouth with the pyramid of his hands and ducked his head, momentarily overcome. He pulled himself together, wiping his tears onto his sleeve.

"Incoming!" called a voice off screen. A box of Kleenex was lobbed over by Mac and caught by Booth.

"Oh man!" said Booth under his breath. "Hey, Joey! Hey Mommy!"

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"Don't make me cry, Booth!" warned Brennan. "I put on cosmetics for the occasion, despite my being a hormonal wreck." The thermometer bleeped and she removed it, peering at the result. "Normothermic" she announced, passing it to the Midwife off camera.

"You look great!" he said. She always did.

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"Okay, young man. Time for our first bathing adventure!" announced Brennan. Her tone was all business, but her demeanour belied that, melting Booth's heart as she picked up the still half-wrapped baby and cradled him against her chest. She wore a Mona Lisa smile as she kissed the top of Joey's tiny head. Booth grabbed a fistful of Kleenex, not even game to glance in Mac's direction, knowing that he'd see a shit-eating _'told-you-so'_ grin.

The camera moved to show a long bench along the side of the room, with a sink and a change mat, plus an assortment of linen and equipment. Joey gave an indignant squawk as he was placed on the change mat. The Midwife was doing a demonstration bath, as per the hospital policy, Booth heard her discussing care of the umbilical cord stump in terms that even he could understand. The baby screwed up his face, then opened his eyes as his teeny beanie and hospital T-shirt was removed. Booth gave a snort at the expression on Joey's face...he looked suspicious...and the spitting image of his father.

"I know that look," said Brennan to Joey, then glanced at the camera to speak to Booth. "I am about to remove his diaper, so brace yourself Booth."

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"Woah! That is 'not' normal!" he exclaimed.

"It's meconium, and completely normal. His stool will change from black to a greenish yellow in the next few days," she said matter-of-factly.

"Thanks for the poop forecast there, Bones," he drawled. "I'm thanking the man upstairs that Skype doesn't have smell."

Brennan gave a laugh as she cleaned up the mess and washed her hands. Joey gave a couple of half-hearted wails in response to being taken from his safe, wrapped up, and slightly stinky comfort zone. He settled somewhat as he was wrapped in a towel and the Midwife handed her some damp swabs to clean Joey's eyes and face, the baby made his displeasure evident. Brennan then handed off Joey to the Midwife so she could demonstrate the various holds. The camera moved to show Brennan observing closely as Joey had his hair washed, triggering loud wailing, that she clearly wasn't happy about, as the midwife gently dried his head and unwrapped the now bright pink and hollering newborn. Using a hold which looked bizarre, the Midwife placed Joey in the bath and let go of his feet. The baby gave a small hiccough of surprise and was abruptly silent; his colour returning to normal as he looked up calmly at his mother's slightly concerned face, which transformed into a broad smile.

"The warm water is calming, like the womb," she observed.

"Parker always loved bath time too..." said Booth, taking in the opportunity to just watch and experience his new son for the first time.

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As with all good things in life, Joey learned that nice warm baths were good, but would always come to an end. His vocal protestations were only silenced by being placed at his Mother's breast for what the Aussie Midwife colloquially referred to as _'tucker time'_. Brennan gave a small fatigued sigh as her son settled to feed and asked everyone in the room if she could have some privacy.

Ella had set the camera and laptop next to where Brennan was sat in a reclining armchair as Joey lay quietly focused on his task. In Afghanistan, Mac mimed a smoke break and exited the Comms room.

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"So, Booth," she asked, her fingers playing with the small curls that had sprung up on Joey's head. "Tell me your first impressions, because I am completely biased. I find myself helplessly in love one moment and scared to death the next."

"Well, I didn't think I could love you any more than I already do, Temperance; but somehow, right now, I do. This is hands down, the best day of my life," he said. "What that little guy represents...is you, me, us, everything we've been through. He's the ultimate reward."

"I know," she said. "I didn't realise how much I actually missed you until I saw Joey's face. I also realised that there are times in life when you should tell someone how much they are loved. This is one of those times...it shouldn't be hard to say the words, but they are so often spoken as a placating facsimile without meaning...and I'm so exhausted that I'm rambling...I love you, Seeley Booth, and I have discovered that I am also in love with our son. I hope you don't mind..."

"Couldn't be happier for you if I tried," said Booth, ignoring his tears. If she had the guts to open her heart, he had the stones to put his ego on the shelf and let her see the tears. "There's enough room in that metaphorical heart of yours for the both of us...and any more that you might want to add."

She laughed gently and used a tissue to dab at her tears. "When I was in labour, and I felt like my pelvis was going to break in two, I was resolved to never have sexual intercourse again. But at the moment that Phil placed Joey on my chest, I wanted to have a child every year until menopause. Completely irrational...ah, burp time, Mister," she said with a grin looking down at her son.

"When we get back to D.C., we can revisit that question...we'd need a bigger place to live!" he joked as Joey was hoisted up onto her shoulder to have the wind coaxed out of him.

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"There are so many issues to be addressed..." she began.

"Not today," he said quickly. "You look tired and you've got plenty to keep you occupied. Phil said that you lost a lot of blood, so you need to rest."

She looked at the web cam and nodded in agreement. "My haemoglobin level is low, as are my iron levels. I discussed it with Phil when he visited at lunch. He won't sign off on a medical release for me to return to Maluku for six weeks, even then, it will be subject to satisfactory labs and Joey's wellbeing."

"Which is the way it should be. Everything else can wait," said Booth.

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"There is one thing that can't wait," she said.

"What would that be?" he asked.

"I need to register Joey's birth and arrange for documentation for you to sign through the US Embassy next week. We need to discuss his name, Booth," she said, a wry smile erupting on her face, as the boy being named let out a loud belch.

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"That is a big noise for such a little guy, huh?" said Booth with a laugh.

Brennan held her son away from her chest so she could look into his tiny face. "Irrefutable proof of your sire, even without the evidence of your facial structure," she crooned affectionately. Joey let out a second, smaller belch of agreement.

Booth laughed. "Sire? You make me sound like a King, or a stallion!"

"That is your father being cocky," she said, kissing Joey's tiny cheek and giving an amused glance toward the web cam. "When the two of you are reunited, I suspect that I shall have to source _'cocky'_ diapers!"

Booth gave a laugh so loud that it startled the baby. Brennan gave a chuckle as she arranged Joey to continue his feed. "I would like him to keep the name Joey, and for his last name to be yours."

"Why not Brennan?" he asked.

"It isn't the name I was born with, Booth," she said bluntly. "Your name has history and lineage attached to it, and he is your son."

"Brennan could be his middle name then," he suggested. "You may have come to your name in unusual circumstances, but you've made your mark with it; more than enough to be worthy of it being carried on by your child."

"That sounds reasonable, and I suppose that I have," she said, shifting slightly to get comfortable. "Obviously, the nickname that Parker chose is here to stay. Your middle name and your father's name is Joseph, but I'm not sure if you are comfortable with that choice. I am open to suggestions if you have them. Max says that he_ 'looks'_ like a Joey, but I don't know what that means."

"It means that _'Joey'_ suits him," explained Booth. "I think Parker would be really happy if his lil' bro was 'Joseph _"Joey"_ Brennan Booth'. Sweets will be pissed that we didn't consider Lance, but he'll get over it. You know we'll call him Joey anyway...it'll make an interesting story to tell him when he gets older."

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Brennan yawned. "Then it is settled. I'll have the documents couriered to you by diplomatic pouch."

"I should let you rest..." began Booth.

"No, no..." she said quickly. "Joey will be another ten minutes until he's ready to be put down for a sleep. To pass the time, I'll share the story of the day that I was born with you...well, Max's version of the story," she said with a smile.

"Okay...this should be good..." said Booth with a chuckle.

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Thus, family time began. It was a slightly unorthodox version of the concept; but just as there is more than one kind of family, there is more than one kind of family time.

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A/N: As always, I'd appreciate hearing from you...you know what to do!


	34. Start Spreading the News

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 34 - Start Spreading the News**

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**Disclaimer:** I do not own BONES. That is all.

**A/N: The next three chapters (all written – Hooray!) are going to be a little like a flat stone skipping across a pond. The flow and style of each is intentionally different, not because I'm having a bad day or something...so I hope that you enjoy this rapid (Yes! Daily updates!) coasting journey to the reunion, which happens in Chapter 37.**

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The early arrival of Joseph Brennan Booth had sent a mini tsunami of reaction around the world. Most people who knew, or knew of Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan, had absolutely no idea that they were an actual couple, let alone parents. The few friends and family of the couple who knew about the pregnancy were, of course, delighted beyond measure. Then there were a few others who fell in between those categories. Some people sent messages of congratulations, some sent gifts, some tucked the news away with an 'I told you so' sense of satisfaction; others were not so charitable, proving that it is unwise and impossible to try to please everyone.

The majority heard the news via a full page story in People magazine, published just over a month following the birth. The article was accompanied by two gorgeous photos of mother and child. The first image was of Joey, dressed in a Baby Gap outfit accessorised with tiny stripy socks, as he lay sleeping on a bed covered in white linen; his mother looking on, positioned on her stomach with her chin resting on her hands, supported on the triangle of her elbows. The other photo was a studio portrait of Brennan wearing her Mona Lisa smile, while a wide awake Joey looked at the camera with large dark grey-blue eyes from his position against his mother's chest. There were also two inset photos; one of Brennan and Booth taken at the Anok exhibition opening, plus an official portrait of Booth in his Class A's against a backdrop of a Rangers and US flag.

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_**Latest release from Temperance Brennan**_

_Popular crime and mystery writer, Dr. Temperance Brennan has kept her fans waiting for the next steamy instalment of her series of Best-selling novels. People magazine were pleasantly surprised when we recently discovered the reason why; and we're sure that you'll agree with us, it's a pretty good reason. Brennan, 35, a respected author and one of the World's premier Forensic Anthropologists, rang in the New Year, literally, with the early arrival of a son, her first child, Joseph "Joey" Brennan Booth, who weighed in at just five pounds and eight ounces. Her fan site server was overloaded with a flood of well wishes, and some inevitable speculation that her next book will include her popular characters Kathy and Andy also getting in the family way. (We at People Magazine think that this little guy is way too cute to be a spoiler!) Conducting an interview via phone, we spoke with Brennan, who is spending some well-deserved time in the warm sunny climate of Australia, well away from the chillier conditions of the US._

_._

_**PM:**__ When we spoke with you about your last book, just under two years ago, did you have any idea that this happy development would be on the cards?_

_**TB:**__ Absolutely not. I had considered having a child in the past, but in my line of work, finding the time and inclination to become a parent has always presented a challenge. _

_**PM:**__ So Joey was a complete surprise?_

_**TB:**__ Yes. A happy surprise. When I left the US, and considering my circumstances and relationship, I had anticipated waiting another couple of years before seriously considering my options. I was working in Indonesia when I discovered my pregnancy; after the initial shock wore off, I laughed and cried simultaneously, it was quite an experience._

_**PM:**__ Thanks for sending us the pictures, you're looking particularly well and your gorgeous son is just a tiny bundle of cuteness. By the way, our Editor wants to know where you got those awesome baby socks! _

_**TB:**__ (laughs) I'll e-mail your editor the details! (Ed. Thanks, Temperance!) Joey is still small, he was five weeks premature, but he has robust health. Judging by his appetite, he is likely to grow quickly. He (Joey) keeps me busy and the combination of careful diet, gentle exercise and breastfeeding has assisted my recovery from the birth._

_**PM:**__ Your pregnancy wasn't all smooth sailing...Was it scary? Would you do it again?_

_**TB:**__ All new challenges in life can induce fear, it's part of the human experience. On balance, I would say that pregnancy, despite the complications that I experienced, was more joyful than scary...and yes, I would consider doing it again, providing Joey's father is amenable._

_**Brennan's long time work colleague and partner is currently deployed in Afghanistan with the Army Rangers. Booth, 39, is a decorated veteran (see inset photo). He took a break from his career at the FBI recently to train US and Allied Forces using his specialist skills.**_

_**PM:**__ Joey hasn't met his father face-to-face yet. How are you coping with being a single parent and being an Army wife?_

_**TB:**__ We spend as much time as permissible on Skype, and a mutual friend has set up a site online for us to exchange photos and videos. Circumstances preclude our being reunited as a family until May. Joey is too young to miss his father, so I have to do the missing for us both (laughs). I never really considered myself an 'Army wife', and technically, I'm not married... But I acknowledge that my experience is shared by the loved ones of the heroes serving our country, particularly those deployed overseas. I have plenty of support here in Australia, but fortunately for me, Joey is a contented baby so far. Hopefully, by the time he (Joey) is old enough to cause trouble, his father (Booth) will be around to be my partner on the tagging (sic) team._

_**PM:**__ Finally, before we let you get back to your Mommy duties, can you give us any details about your next book?_

_**TB:**__ I'm not committed to any firm deadline to produce another book, but that is likely to change in the latter half of the year. A new book and some further negotiations on the movie rights to my first book should hopefully close to completion by Christmas. Plus I may need to purchase a larger home for my growing family, so I'm going to have to earn a living again at some point (laughs)._

_**PM:**__ Ooh! A new Temperance Brennan novel is going on my Christmas wish-list! Plus a Kathy and Andy movie...who would you like to play the leads?_

_**TB:**__ I'm not familiar with many actors, but my best friend assures me that George Clooney would make an excellent Andy; her reasoning is probably because she would like to play the part of Kathy, even though she has never taken an acting lesson..._

_**PM:**__ Perfectly understandable reasoning by your friend there! George Clooney, we'd buy a ticket on that ride!_

* * *

Sam Cullen read the article with his wife and they shed a few tears together, recalling their memories of their daughter Amy and the criminals that Booth and Brennan brought to justice for her death. Brennan received a hand-written letter of congratulations and an antique silver rattle that had belonged to Amy. Brennan wept a few tears over the incredibly intimate gesture.

Dr. Michael Stires read the article and considered sending an e-mail to Temperance, then decided against it. He'd made the right decision; Brennan would have deleted it.

Caroline Julian read the article. She e-mailed a curt dressing down to one Sergeant Major Seeley Booth in Afghanistan for keeping someone as important as 'she' was in the dark over this whole baby business. Her holier-than-thou ire was only spoiled slightly by a thinly-veiled demand to be a Godparent. In the case of Brennan, the Federal Prosecutor pulled strings with the US Embassy to facilitate a Skype call so that she could give the Anthropologist a grilling. In reality, Caroline was more interested in cooing and waxing lyrical over the baby for ten minutes. Brennan considered that Ms. Julian's amusing rendition of _'Dancing Depositions'_ for a wide-eyed Joey was far inferior to her own _'Dancing Phalanges'_, but decided wisely to keep that opinion to herself.

Tim Sullivan read the article on his laptop on the deck of the 'Temperance', currently moored in the Dutch Caribbean. He showed the article about the boat's namesake to his new wife, a strapping athletic bikini-clad woman from Trinidad, who's belly was already swelling with the evidence of his own child. Sully used a contact from his FBI days to get a contact address, and then sent an e-mail and photos. Dr. Gemma Sullivan, a straight-talking expert in Caribbean History eventually began exchanging e-mails with Brennan and sharing baby tips, amongst other earthier things.

Hank Booth had been one of the first people to be contacted about the birth of his second great-grandson, receiving emotional calls from both Afghanistan and Australia; sparking a frenzy of actual crocheting and even some knitting at the Retirement Home. When the People Magazine article was published, a couple of weeks later, Hank once again found himself the centre of attention and received several _*ahem*_ invitations to engage in some complex crochet sessions. If Hodgins hadn't been playing chief bed-warmer in Paris, he would have happily crowned Hank Booth 'King of the Crochet Club'.

Chef Gordon Gordon Wyatt generally refrained from reading mainstream publications such as People Magazine, but overheard the Maitre 'D at his restaurant going into raptures over the Kathy and Andy 'spoilers' contained in the article one evening following service, under the influence of one too many glasses of grappa. The former Psychiatrist was delighted that Dr. Brennan had finally connected with her own intrinsic ability to achieve joy in her life, and had ceased her daily struggle with the truth of how she truly felt about Agent Booth. Similarly, where Agent Booth was concerned, clearly he had 'grown a set' and moved past his frustrating emotional propensity to shoot aimlessly with deadly accuracy. One thing was certain however; being a clown in D.C. would no longer require the wearing of a bulletproof vest.

Deputy Director Andrew Hacker, the FBI's most charming and debonair bachelor _(according to his mother, his reflection in the bathroom mirror, and the little voice inside his skull)_ also read the article. He swung his plush leather Executive chair around _(the little voice inside his skull making an excited 'whee' sound)_ to face the dull dreary vista of a D.C. Winter day. Hacker knew that talking to himself was the second sign of madness _(the first sign being that he had let Temperance Brennan slip through his manly manicured fingers)_, but looking at the photo of the happy mother and child, he couldn't help himself. He looked down at the crotch of his trousers, spread his hands in frustration and chastised his flaccid manhood. _"Now why didn't 'you' think of doing that before she flew away to Indonesia!"_ His penis remained embarrassingly mute; as a doofus dick does.

Dr. Camille Saroyan had heard the news within hours of the blessed event. She was the Boss after all, so people around her had a habit of making sure that she knew everything that was going on. Cam wondered what kind of madness having the offspring of two of her favourite people in the mix would be like. When the magazine article was published, her daughter Michelle had become Joey Booth's biggest fan and made the mistake of wistfully mentioning that she looked forward to the day when she could have babies of her own. Cam tried not to panic, she really did; but her desire to avoid becoming a grandmother overrode common sense. Michelle let Cam get away with placing articles around the house about birth trauma, the World's Worst Babies, and the premature ageing effects of maternal stress for two days. Sitting down together at the Diner, Michelle assured Cam that her only interest in babies was babysitting until she was at least twenty-five, so she should stop worrying. Cam gave her adopted daughter a hug and admitted how relieved she was to hear that...and that she'd be even more relieved if Michelle could extend her period of keen interest in just babysitting until she was perhaps thirty.

Dr. Lance Sweets read the article and made an appointment to see his own therapist.

.

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**A/N: Next chapter up in twelve hours! Pinky-promise :D, so tell me if you liked this!**


	35. The Parting of the Progeny

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 35. - The Parting of the Progeny**

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**Disclaimer:** I do not own BONES. That is all.

**A/N: A pair of vignettes to pass the time to eventually. I hope that you like them **

* * *

_February 28th, 2011 - Maluku Islands, Indonesia_

"Welcome to your new home, Joey!" exclaimed Ella Haynes as they entered the accommodation that her mother had arranged for Brennan's arrival. The seventeen year old placed him in the centre of the bed and started making funny faces at the baby. Joey had been giving a tentative half-smile for the past couple of days, and everyone around him was trying to tease a fully fledged grin out of him. The baby gave Ella an appraising look before his face crumpled and he let out a wail of complaint.

"He's tired and hungry, Ella. It's a shame that I couldn't feed him on the ferry, the rocking motion caused him to nap and our schedule is out," said Brennan, all business as she put a rucksack and a duffle bag in the corner of their room. "If you go out and get his fold-down cot, I'll sort out his hunger issues."

"Okay!" said the teenager enthusiastically, as she pulled one more funny face at Joey and headed for the door. Ella was going to be playing the role of assistant and chief babysitter until they headed back to the States.

.

Brennan removed her camouflage jacket which was significantly oversized on her now. She had lost so much weight in the first four weeks following the birth of her son that Phil had threatened to send her directly back to the States. The new mother had become so focused on caring for her precious child that she would become absent minded about her own needs, particularly at mealtimes. She ate regularly, but would rarely finish her meals, so Phil put her on a regimen of higher calorie foods divided into six small meals a day. When she had regained ten pounds, Phil agreed to let her return to Maluku.

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Joey gave another grizzle of complaint and Brennan chuckled at her son. "If you think an empty stomach is uncomfortable, you should consider the discomfort having overly full breasts, young man," she advised him leaning over him to give his belly a rub.

The baby gave a half smile and became fixated on his mother's chest. He instinctively appeared to know what was coming next. He was duly picked up and given a quick raspberry on his stomach before being cradled in the crook of his mother's arm. He flashed her what could only be described as a gummy cocky grin before he settled down for a feed. Brennan gave a smile as she considered what the reactions would be to a photograph of that grin, particularly from Booth; she may have to concede that the cocky grin was genetic.

* * *

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_May 13th 2011 - Afghanistan (Undisclosed location)_

Sergeant Major Seeley Booth took a well earned break from his pile of _'paperwork'_, well, much of it was online form filling, but it was still paperwork. He was wrapping up his training program duties, having trained his successor and completed the evaluations for his final class of students. He looked at the official envelope next to his laptop and glanced at the time.

"Crap!" he exclaimed to nobody in particular. He was going to be late for his Skype call.

Reaching the Comms section, he skidded into the cubicle allocated for his call and nudged the mouse on the desk to bring the screen to life. He logged in and when the Skype window showed her icon waiting and muttered a curse under his breath. Booth clicked the call button and waited for her to pick up. The sound of his apparently unhappy son came through the speakers before the video feed went live.

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"Sorry, I'm late Bones! Had to get some reports filed for the Brass," he explained.

"That's okay. 'Somebody' wanted more food anyway. He's probably on a growth spurt. Now he's unhappy because he has wind..." she had hoisted Joey over her shoulder and was patting industriously at his back, his baby cargo short-clad butt facing the camera.

Booth gave a laugh. "You're a regular _'baby whisperer'_! Hey, you cut your hair..."

"Yes. Joey was grabbing at my hair and pulling it out of my ponytail, so I decided to cut some bangs in," she reported. "Have you received your orders yet?" she asked.

He gave a grin and held up the envelope. "I'm heading home, baby!" he crowed. "I've got a crappy flight allocation, but I'll be back in time to meet you."

"At the coffee cart," she said with a smile.

"At the coffee cart," he confirmed.

.

Joey gave a man-sized belch and spat up a little on his Mom's shoulder. Brennan grabbed a cloth and sat Joey down on her lap to face the webcam before swiping the cloth over his face, which happened to be wearing a gummy cocky grin, and going on to remove the white dribble of baby vomit from her shoulder. Fortunately she was wearing a tank top in the sticky Moluccan heat, so the collateral damage to her clothes was minimal.

"Are you giving your Mommy a hard time?" said Booth. "You and I are going to have a man to man talk when I see you, then we'll let Mommy sleep for a week!"

She made a sound of disbelief. "Unless you've developed the ability to lactate, I doubt that you'd last more than four hours. But you can feed him some rice cereal with a little fruit mixed in..."

"No, Mommy," said Booth in a baby voice. "I want pie."

He received a look of amused reproach. "Joey laughed at me today, Booth. A big belly laugh," she said with a smile.

"Wow! First laugh for our little guy? How about a big laugh for Daddy...C'mon, c'mon Joey, you know you want to...!" he said with a big grin and waved at the screen. Brennan tickled Joey's ribs gently and he wriggled and gave a small squeal, then she tickled him under his chin making Joey throw back his head, he chortled with husky laughter.

Booth clapped his hands together appreciatively. "Where did he get that cheeky little laugh from?"

"Well, Joey inherited your cocky grin, so logically, that the cheeky laugh is also your genetic responsibility," she reasoned, tickling him again and being rewarded by another gale of baby laughter. She laughed along with him as Joey looked up at her, reaching up with a chubby hand. It was a game that they played, so she grabbed his hand and blew a raspberry on his hand, getting a squeal of delight from her son.

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"One more week, Bones. I can't wait!" said Booth with misty eyes at her natural ease with their son.

"I know," she replied, as she shifted Joey on her lap. He gave a yawn and snuggled against her breast, she ran her fingers through his dark wavy baby hair absently. "We leave in four days time. It will be a long journey for all of us."

Booth nodded in agreement. "It's the last leg of the journey, Temperance. We'll be together, the three of us...finally, for a whole month...we're gonna need that time to adjust, to make a few decisions. We kind of up and left in a hurry."

"Max has taken care of the arrangements at my apartment. Angela started re-decorating the nursery the day after she arrived home from Paris, she refuses to send me photographs, or the design plans for that matter," she complained good-naturedly.

"So we could get anything from teddy bears to the surface of Venus," he said with a laugh. "Well, I got the extension of the sub-let on my place until the end of June, so we can work out our longer term plans," reported Booth.

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Brennan looked down at their son, who was drifting off to sleep with his fist in his mouth, helped along with a full belly and a hug from Mommy. "That's good news..." she said in a tired voice.

"You okay? I can call and change the arrangements...I don't want to rush you..." he said, unsure if she was having second thoughts.

She looked up from Joey's drooping eyes. "Oh, no...I didn't mean to imply that. I was just thinking...Joey has slept next to me in his cot every night since he was born...I'm not sure that I'm ready to put him in a room by himself yet. When he's falling asleep like this, he just gazes at me with such trust and love...I would feel like I was abandoning him."

Booth gave a small smile at the admission. "Hey...the kid is the centre of our Universe, okay. If he needs to sleep in with us until we're all settled, then that's what we'll do."

"You'd be okay with that?" she asked.

"More than okay? I'll even sleep in the nursery if you want to kick me out," he joked.

She gave a soft chuckle. "That is an unlikely scenario...I've had trouble sleeping the past few nights, I want to be with you, as much as I want _'us'_ to be with you."

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"You should take a nap; you look beat. Get some extra sleep in to help with the time changes," he suggested.

"Our time for this call is almost up. I suppose that I could lie down for ten minutes," she said with a yawn. Placing a kiss on Joey's forehead, she spoke to the sleeping baby. "Let's put you in your cot and play Daddy's stories again."

Brennan stood and moved out of camera range, placing Joey in his cot. Booth heard his own voice begin playing at low volume in the background.

"You still play those for him?" asked Booth.

"Yes. Every day," she admitted as she sat down on her bed in front of the laptop. "When I'm tired and missing you, I play them for myself too."

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"One week..." he said.

"The coffee cart, I know," she replied.

"I'll send messages when I can. Transit Army-style can be unpredictable," he told her.

"I understand. I imagine that it will be challenging for our journey too. I'll call you on the morning you get in..." she said.

"Looking forward to it...a lot," he said, trying not to get choked up at the thought. "Give our little guy lots of hugs and kisses from me when he wakes up, okay?"

"Just you try and stop me!" she said with a bright smile. "I'm going to try and get a little sleep."

"Dream about me," he advised her affectionately, as he signed off.

.

"All the time..." she said to the laptop, closing it and placing it on the floor. Curling up on her narrow bed in the afternoon humidity, Brennan took one last look at Joey to make sure he was settled, before relaxing and closing her eyes.

* * *

**A/N: Another step closer...ooh, exciting! I'm guessing y'all are a little impatient for the reunion. **


	36. Au revoir

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 36 - Au revoir**

**.**

**Disclaimer:** BONES; not mine.

**A/N: Can I just say that I'm feeling a little sad that this story is coming to an end? When readers review and tell me that, I mutter to myself **_**'Moi aussi, Cheri!**_**' (in a Caroline Julian drawl - because I'm a little bit **_**'in lurve'**_** with her character...can you tell?) I'm not **_**'rushing'**_** to finish this story, but I have closeted myself in my writing cupboard under the stairs to focus on getting the flow to the end in some sort of coherent order...hence the flurry of chapters!**

**Also, before you start this chapter, there was a problem loading the previous chapter yesterday, so if you didn't get alerted, you may have missed the small vignettes there.**

* * *

_May 17__th__ 2011 - Indonesia_

Waiting at the airport with the group of people that were a collection of new colleagues, friends, and even people that she considered as _'family'_; Brennan gave a sad smile of remembrance of another airport parting just a year ago. The scientists, historians and roving amateur archaeology enthusiasts who had helped to shut down Maluku Project were in a jovial mood of relief and expectancy. Some, like Brennan, would be returning home, others were moving on to the next adventure, with a small remainder casting themselves onto a nomadic zephyr, surrendering to the winds of change.

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Ella Haynes had a tear-stained face and puffy eyes; the teenager had wept intermittently at times in the last few days at the prospect of saying farewell to her favourite little boy, Joey Booth. She was sat across from Brennan and Eileen with Joey on her lap, entertaining him with a string of antics designed to make him laugh as he chomped on a toy.

"Will Ella be okay?" asked Brennan slightly concerned at the outpouring of emotion of this morning. Every single person who had departed on their way to their next destination that morning had mentioned how much they would miss the simple joys of Joey, in addition to the standard expression _'it's been an honour/privilege etc., to work with you, Dr. Brennan'_.

Eileen gave a sigh. "She's a teenager, Temperance, she'll survive," asserted her colleague pragmatically. "I've got to admit, I'm going to miss having a baby around...even though my eleven-year old _'baby'_ is waiting for me at home."

"Would you and Phil consider having more children?" asked Brennan.

"Nope. Too old, no energy...plus five is enough, don't you think?" replied Eileen with a laugh. "Plus one of my oldest two is bound to make us grandparents in the next ten years...not sure that Phil is looking forward to being called _'Pops'_ though."

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"Booth's grandfather is called Pops..." murmured Brennan, almost to herself.

"Did you get any sleep at all last night?" asked Eileen with a note of concern in her voice.

"Perhaps five hours in total," replied Brennan. "I am very much looking forward to arriving home."

Eileen gave a short laugh. "Yeah, I know that feeling. It's great that you can afford the First Class ticket, they should take care of you..."

"I know," said Brennan. "The cabin staff can be almost too helpful."

"Well, let them look after you," advised Eileen. "Travelling with a baby is hard work, even a well-behaved little guy like Joey."

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Brennan considered the advice in silence as she took a drink from her water bottle.

"You've lost weight again, Temperance," observed Eileen. "You're not going to be able to get pregnant again if you're underweight."

"I've never stated any definite intent to have more children, Eileen," said Brennan dryly.

"When your friend Angela announces her pregnancy, you and Booth will be rushing to get horizontal and procreative again," said Eileen with a chuckle.

"Angela is pregnant?" asked Brennan, her brows raised in surprise. "She told you?"

Eileen shook her head in mock disappointment. "You should hand back one of your PhD's, Temperance. On that Skype call that she made from your apartment the other day, when she was avoiding showing you the nursery decorations by showing us the items that she wanted to 'borrow' from your wardrobe...her gait and the position of her ilia screamed early pregnancy. Sorry if I ruined the surprise."

"No apology necessary," replied Brennan. "I'm sure I would have noticed if I hadn't been trying to convince Angela to show me the nursery."

.

"You're still wearing your ring," said Eileen, mentioning the fact, as she did from time to time; giving a fond smile as Ella dissolved into laughter at Joey chortling with baby giggles. "How's that _'traditional symbol of commitment'_ sitting with you now you'll be heading back to get on with the rest of your life?"

"I don't need the ring, Eileen. I have my son. When I look at him, I see his father...Joey is a living symbol of what we have together," she replied.

The older woman gave a nod of her head and smiled. "Good answer. So are you going to take the ring off then? It would make a nice farewell gift if you wanted to give it to me..."

Brennan covered her left hand with her right reflexively. Eileen laughed loudly.

"So it _'does' _mean something to you..." teased Eileen. "Are you going to reject the null hypothesis and accept my theory here, or do we have to thrash it out via the editorial letters in my forthcoming journal publication?"

"The ring suits my hand...Booth would be upset if I gave it away...and it _does_ hold meaning. I am still undecided as to whether it _'means'_ that I have enough reasons to marry him is all," said Brennan with an evasive smile.

"You're tying yourself up in a Gordian knot of logic there, Temperance. If that beautiful child over there isn't enough of a reason, then how many more reasons does Booth need to give you?" asked Eileen. "And by _'reasons'_, I mean children..." she added with a snort of laughter.

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"I take your point, Eileen, but our lives will be busy enough without adding more children into the equation," rationalised Brennan.

Eileen rolled her eyes heavenward. "That's why the roles of _Housekeeper _and _Nanny_ were invented. You're a wealthy woman for Christ's sake, one who has finally allowed herself to experience the joys of parenthood...and I can see that you get a real kick out of it; so do what you have to, get the best of both worlds...be everything that you want to be. It's only money."

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A heavily accented voice announced in English that the flight to Seoul was in the final stages of boarding. Ella burst into tears and Joey pouted, looking as if he might too. Eileen quickly made her way over and indicated that Ella should hand Joey to her. The baby brightened considerably at Eileen's wide grin and open arms, he put his chubby arms out and was swept up. Brennan put her water bottle in to her carry-on bag and approached Ella, holding out an arm.

"Walk with me to the gate, Ella?" asked Brennan with a smile. She had become inordinately fond of Eileen's middle child, as had Joey. The teenager stood mutely, glancing at her mother before looping an arm through Brennan's.

They walked in silence for perhaps fifty feet before Brennan spoke again. "You can come and visit us. I spoke with your Mom about it, you could come to DC next Christmas, it will be snowing..."

"Really?" asked Ella sniffling.

"Yes. Even Booth agreed that you should come for Joey's first Christmas," added Brennan with a smile.

"He did?" Ella said brightening.

"He did. Booth loves Christmas, he goes out with Parker and selects a Christmas tree, he likes to make snowmen...he's like a big kid really..." said Brennan as they approached the gate.

"Well, I suppose I'll have to see how the rest of my studies go this year," said Ella sensibly.

"Your Mom assures me that you will do very well," reassured Brennan. From her own observations, the teenager was clearly gifted.

.

"Time for goodbye hugs!" announced Ella brightly, with tears in her eyes; she gave Brennan a brief hug. She then took Joey from Eileen for a final hug and kiss.

Eileen embraced Brennan; they exchanged final thanks and goodbyes.

"We shouldn't say goodbye, we should say _'au revoir'_, until we meet again", said Brennan as she gathered her squirming son into her arms and presented her boarding passes at the gate.

"_Au revoir_ it is, my dear friend," said Eileen. "Remember, I want a wedding invitation..." she added.

Brennan laughed and turned to take the first steps toward home..

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* * *

The flight to Seoul was just under eight hours in duration. First class was empty except for Brennan, Joey and one other passenger. The baby tolerated take off remarkably well, became mildly unsettled for half an hour before he calmed down enough to take a little rice cereal. A quick trip to the bathroom for a diaper change, then being wrapped up securely and offered a feed seemed to do the trick. He fell asleep, so Brennan decided to recline her seat into a bed and snuggle up with him while she had the chance. Five hours later she awoke with a start, finding Joey still asleep, but wriggling slightly in a baby dream; his arms had escaped from his light blanket and were thrown back over above his head.

The cabin attendant noticed her passenger awakening and offered refreshments and even took the sleeping child in her arms while Brennan freshened up in the bathroom afterward. When she emerged, her son was stirring and obviously hungry again; he latched on as if he'd been fasting all day. By the time he'd had his fill, it was time to prepare for landing, so he was sat up on her lap again only half-winded when they touched down in Seoul; Joey promptly vomited all over her pants while the aircraft was taxi-ing to the terminal. She wiped them both down as best she could and told him that he could save the next one for his father, as she kissed him fondly. Joey offered up his hand for a raspberry to be blown on it, a game which lasted until the seatbelt sign was turned off. Donning her baby sling, she placed the wriggling boy inside and prepared to exit the aircraft. An airline staff member was waiting for her at the arrival gate with a golf buggy to take her across the terminal to meet her next flight...this one was almost fourteen hours in duration, but she would be back in D.C. by the end of it.

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* * *

_May 18__th__ 2011 – International Airspace_

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The flight from Seoul to Washington D.C. couldn't have been more different. For starters, the flight was jam packed full. Then the man in the seat next to her made objections to her breastfeeding on the flight, which almost escalated into a knock-down drag out fight as the Cabin Attendant tried to reason with them both. Brennan fervently wished that someone with a badge, a gun and a Cocky belt buckle were around to stage an Alpha-male intervention.

Finally, with Joey becoming unsettled, the staff moved the man to another seat, a tiny Korean business-woman kindly agreeing to swap seats. Brennan didn't speak Korean, but they managed to establish with a little pidgin English and translation from the Cabin Attendant, they established that Mrs. Shu had four children of her own and thought that the complaining man was a regressive pig _(the translation made her name calling appear tame, but it was actually more colourful in Korean)_.

But by that time, the damage was done. Poor Joey, now hungry and unsettled by his Mother's anger toward the rude man, took the opportunity to exercise his baby lungs and vocal cords for five long minutes that seemed like an hour to Brennan. When she finally got him calm enough to attempt to feed he kept falling asleep at her breast exhausted, napping for a few minutes, and then becoming grouchy when she tried to keep him awake. After almost an hour of this insanity, she took his pacifier from her bag and somehow managed to get him to fall asleep on her shoulder. Murphy's Law of parenting kicked in at that point, he wouldn't stay asleep unless he stayed on her shoulder; so two hours was spent holding Joey for the price of him getting some rest. Lunch was served during this time, Brennan just picked at it listlessly; the progress of the flight shown on the wall screen at the front of the cabin appeared to hover stubbornly around the halfway mark between the departure and arrival markers on the map.

.

When Joey Booth finally awoke, he was his usual jovial-baby self, whereas Brennan felt wrung out and unaccountably impatient. It was 3:00 p.m. D.C. time, but the early hours of the morning in Indonesia. Not content to snuggle with his Mommy as they usually would when he woke in the night, her son took a shine to the diminutive Mrs. Shu, clearly fascinated by her exotic looks and the shiny rhinestones on her spectacles. The Korean woman asked, using their mixture of gestures and truncated English if Joey could sit on her lap for a while...he was already making his own preferences clear by leaning over the console that separated their seats and Brennan's arm, to try and grasp at the sleeve of Mrs. Shu's attractive bright red silk blouse. Capitulating, Brennan handed over her son, receiving a gummy cocky smile of thanks when he finally sat facing her from his new perch on Mrs. Shu's lap. Taking the opportunity presented by her son's temporary defection, Brennan pulled out her laptop and checked her e-mail.

.

Sure enough, Booth had sent her a message a couple of hours previously, reporting that the second leg of his journey had been delayed by some technicality; apparently regulations dictated a minimum number of hours between flights for pilots; which translated to four hours of kicking around in a grotty recreation room, which only had a pool table for entertainment. He assured her that he wasn't planning on playing, getting horizontal for a couple of hours was highest on his agenda - plus the pool table had a subtle dip to the left bottom corner pocket that was going to throw the game in any case.

She sent him back a brief message, reporting that she was tired and that Joey was wide awake, trying out his charm skills on a small Korean lady. His son hadn't quite mastered the charm smile yet, but she anticipated that Joey could learn from the Master - starting the day after tomorrow at the coffee cart. Somehow, she dozed off to Joey's happy pre-verbal sounds in reaction to what was clearly a children's story in Korean from Mrs. Shu.

When she awoke, another three hours had passed, Joey was sprawled on his belly across an airline miniature pillow that had been placed on Mrs. Shu's lap, and she was patting his diaper-clad butt absently as she watched something on her video screen. Brennan mimed that she was getting up to go to the bathroom; the Korean lady gave her a cosmetically whitened toothy smile.

.

Stood in the First Class bathroom, Brennan looked at her own reflection in the mirror, almost not recognising the woman that she saw there. Sure, she was dressed as if she'd just been dragged out of the jungle...most return trips from her digs and Anthropological excursions were made in this kind of attire. But the modern lighting, and the Western standard of bathroom facilities exposed a difference, a set of differences actually. She looked tired, not just because she had slept for a few hours, but because she had been Hell-bent on being a sole carer to a small human...her very own small human, for four and a half months. Her skin tone and turgor told her that she was dehydrated, something that she had battled with when returning to the very humid Maluku while breastfeeding. Her eyes conveyed a message to herself, no matter how much she tried to adjust her gaze to that of blank scientific appraisal...the marks of this experience, this time away, this journey of discovery to live with the simple joys of humanity. What had marked her so? Motherhood? Love? Solitude? Or had the marks been there all along, just covered over or buried under something.

Angela had offered to stay with her for a couple of nights after picking her up from the airport, Brennan decided that the arrangement would work out well for both of them. Since Angela and Hodgins had returned from Paris, they had spoken every day; given the keen observation of Dr. Eileen Haynes, Brennan realised that in some way, her best friend was reaching out for the support of a maternal role model in the early stages of her own pregnancy. Booth would coin the phrase _'pay it forward'_, something which she could now fully appreciate. She looked down at her hands as she washed them in the sink, the rings slightly looser than they should be under the influences of dehydration and weight loss. Giving her reflection one final glance, she returned to her seat. Joey cracked an eye open from his comfortable resting place as she sat down again; satisfied that his Mommy was still there, he returned to his peaceful slumber.

.

* * *

_May 18__th__ 2011, Washington D.C. – 11:00 p.m._

Angela Montenegro-Hodgins grabbed her husband's hand and squeezed it for the fifth time in as many minutes. They were waiting at the arrival gate, Bren's flight had landed twenty minutes prior and the Artist was getting more impatient by the second.

"Did I mention how exciting finally getting to meet this little guy is going to be?" she said to Hodgins.

"Only two or three..._hundred_ times, Ange," he replied in a sardonic tone, with a grin added for good measure. "Stay calm, baby...for our baby's sake, if not for mine."

Angela raised a brow at her husband and assumed a pose of beatific calm and returned to watching those arriving through the gate. Thirty seconds later the calm was shattered by a rapid-fire outburst of _"Oh-My-God!"_

_._

Pushing a trolley full of bags and boxes, laden with a lemon-coloured cotton baby sling over one shoulder, her friend appeared. She yanked Hodgins forward by the arm, rushing forward regardless of others milling about in their path to greet the arrivals.

Brief greetings and fond kisses were exchanged as they moved with the flow of foot traffic until they cleared the main crowd of humanity gathered around the gate area. Stopping for a few moments near a car rental stand, Brennan found herself pulled into a massive hug.

"Am I glad to see you, Bren! I think I missed you more this last week than any other time over this past year," exclaimed Angela. "Now hand over that baby, because Hodgins wants a hug from you," she demanded.

.

Brennan gave a snort of laughter at her clear manipulation of the situation and was joined by Hodgins who shook his head as he chuckled.

"Very well...but his name is Joey, not _'that baby'_," said Brennan as she extracted her bemused son from the sling. He blinked at the bright lights and noise and looked to her for reassurance. Placing a kiss on the tip of his baby nose, she passed him to Angela who gave a gasp of amazement.

"Aww! You are just...gorgeous, you little thing..._mmhwah!_" said Angela to Joey as she planted a kiss on his chubby cheek. Joey gave her his best gummy cocky grin and let out a loud belch. Angela reacted as if he'd quoted Shakespeare at her. "Thank you, Sweetie! Aunty Angela loves you too..."

.

Brennan shook her head in amusement and held her arms open to give Jack Hodgins a hug.

"Welcome home, Dr. B!" he said as he hugged her tight.

"Thanks, Hodgins. It's good to be back," she replied, hugging back.

Angela initiated something that amused Joey immensely, because he wriggled and chortled in response. "Phew-ee, Joey Booth, you are ripe, Mister!," complained Angela, wrinkling up her nose. "It smells like a job for Uncle Hodgie..." she announced, passing the baby to Hodgins. Joey's face took on a guarded look, which dissolved into a wail of protest at the unfamiliar bright blue eyes and facial hair.

Brennan intervened. "It is probably a job for Mommy," she asserted, taking Joey. "At least until he becomes accustomed to all the new faces...besides, I imagine that the two of you would benefit from some practice," she added, glancing meaningfully at Angela's pelvic region.

Angela placed a hand on her hip, looking seriously miffed. "Aww, c'mon Brennan! I wore a dress to hide my iliac crests from you, and you can still tell?"

"You can't hide your gait, Angela...although I'll admit that Eileen was the one to spot it on our last Skype call when you were raiding my wardrobe," said Brennan with a smile, as she juggled Joey up onto her shoulder and took her baby bag off the trolley.

Hodgins harrumphed good-naturedly. "Typical Aussies, always trying to steal everyone's thunder!" he said.

"Hey!" said Angela. "Don't be hating on Aussies...Joey here is technically one."

Brennan laughed. "That's what Booth says too, but in actual fact, Joey is not an Australian Citizen, different laws apply. We need to find a change facility..." she muttered looking around.

* * *

_May 19__th__ 2011 – Washington D.C._

.

The car ride home to Brennan's apartment had mainly consisted of Angela talking ten to the dozen about everything and nothing. Amongst other things, she was apparently ten weeks into her pregnancy, but had only known about it for ten days, having missed signs and symptoms, along with her period, during the move back from France. Angela was also glad that Brennan actually wanted her to stay over for the first couple of nights, admitting that she'd anticipated having to put up a fight to make it happen.

When they finally reached the door of her apartment at around midnight, Angela was in the process of extracting the keys from the bag she was carrying, when the door was flung open by none other than Max Keenan, who threw his arms wide and announced, "Here's Grandpa!"

Joey was still strapped into his car seat and had fallen asleep, as babies do in moving vehicles, but his eyes popped open at the booming welcome.

Max stood back and let everyone in. Glancing down into the car seat, he said, "Hey! The little guy is awake!"

Brennan placed her shoulder bag on the back of a nearby chair and rolled her eyes at Max. "He is now," she commented dryly.

"Come on, sit down, relax; I've put on a pot of coffee...decaf, and I got some Snickerdoodles..." said Max with a big grin on his face.

.

Brennan took a seat on her couch, placing the car seat on the floor between her legs and began removing the restraints. "I'm too tired to eat, Dad," she said with a sigh.

"Is that your excuse, Honey?" said Max folding his arms. "That explains the waif look that you're sporting...you're skin and bone!"

"Okay, okay!" she replied sitting Joey on her lap. "One cookie..."

"Two," countered Max.

"Dad!" she warned. "Here, come and say hello to your grandson..." she evaded.

.

Angela wandered into the kitchen. "Mmm! Snickerdoodles...I haven't had one of those in like..._forever_," she said, rubbing her hands together and starting to salivate.

Max picked up Joey and gave him a raspberry on his cheek. Joey grabbed a fistful of his grandpa's forelock, showing that he could already hold his own against the baddest guy in the room.

"Hey! No more than two for you, Angela," said Max. "You may be eating for two, but you should lay off the sugar."

Angela threw her hands in the air. "What is this, like some sort of psychic ability that your family has?" she said to Max and Brennan.

Finally managing to free his thinning hair from the grip of Joey, Max gave a laugh and bounced the baby on his lap. "No. You've been here decorating the nursery for the past week, stealing my all of my Reece's Peanut Butter Cups and rubbing your belly like crazy." He gave Joey an extra high bounce, extracting a squeal of delight, before asking Joey, _"...the only question is now, when are your Mommy and Daddy going to make you a baby brother or sister, huh?"_

Brennan made a derisive noise and elbowed her father. "Just because I plan on having sex tomorrow doesn't mean that I'm planning another pregnancy! Besides, my menstrual cycle hasn't re-established because of the prolactin levels produced by my breastfeeding."

Max gave a chuckle. "That's probably just because you're too damned thin Tempe!"

Angela brought over the plate of cookies and a cup of coffee. "Here, Brennan. Eat up, these Snickerdoodles are amazing!"

.

Max and Hodgins had departed before it got too late. It was after 1:00 a.m., so Brennan and Angela hung out on her bed for the night, moving the portable cot in from the hallway where it sat with the luggage. Apparently Parker had helped Angela decorate the nursery on the weekend, so there would be an _'official unveiling'_ at a party that had been arranged on the following evening. Brennan was aware of this, but it was going to be a surprise for Booth. Angela had cooked up and sold the plot to both Brennan and Rebecca when she'd asked if Parker could help decorate Joey's nursery.

After feeding and changing a worn out, time-zone challenged baby boy. Angela barely had time to make a crack to Brennan about Joey returning to his _'point of origin'_ on her bed, while she snuggled the sleepy baby.

.

The rest of the twenty-four hour period was just spent adjusting, in a loose cycle of eating, sleeping, resting, and talking. Max visited again, as did Hodgins, but everyone else was staying away until the day that Booth returned. Having stayed up as long as possible during the D.C. daytime, Brennan again fell into an exhausted slumber at around midnight.

* * *

_May 20__th__ 2011 – Washington D.C_

When Angela awoke at 5:00 a.m., Brennan was sat up against her headboard, feeding Joey and texting with one hand, wearing a big smile. Feeling a wave of nausea overwhelm her, the Artist rolled off Brennan's bed and staggered to the bathroom, where she began retching.

Brennan gave a small smile in the direction of the bathroom and stroked Joey's wavy hair. Her phone buzzed with a message and she smiled when she read it.

_"Your Daddy is home!"_ she whispered to the baby, who stopped suckling for a moment, then appeared to think better of being distracted and carried on.

.

She pressed the long unused speed-dial to Booth's personal cell phone and waited for the call to connect.

"Good morning," she said.

"Hey, Bones. I am _'back'_ baby!" he crowed into his cell phone.

"What time do I come and get you?" she asked, her voice loaded with innuendo.

"Ha! I wish," he replied. "Morning debrief, shower, shave, change, head to The Mall. How about 1900 Zulu...I mean two p.m.?" he asked.

"Sure," she said. "Hopefully Joey will nap and be awake when we get there."

"Aw, poor little guy, why don't ask Angela or Max to watch him while you come down to the coffee cart?" he asked.

"I'm not leaving Joey," she said firmly. "He only gets to be alone with you, or me for now."

.

"Okay, fine. Bring the _'Australian Guy'_, get all in my face about how much you love him. I can take it..." said Booth with a laugh.

"You'll be in uniform?" she asked, laughing.

"Regulations, Ma'am," he teased.

"Excellent..." she drawled seductively.

"Geez, Temperance...will you cut that phone sex voice out, I've got to be front and centre for a '_rent a crowd' _briefing in less than an hour!" he reprimanded her.

"This isn't phone sex..." complained Brennan. "There's a baby attached to my breast!"

"Great...now I'm gonna be thinking about your breasts all fucking morning...er, sorry about the potty mouth there, Bones," he said. "I've got to double-time it, so I'll see you at two, okay?"

"See you at two," she said with a grin.

.

"Wow, hot and heavy with the phone sex already...nice..." drawled Angela, who look a little pale and drawn.

"Are you feeling okay?" asked Brennan.

"I'm kind of getting used to it," mused Angela. "But that last Snickerdoodle that I ate at three a.m., was a seriously bad idea."

* * *

_Later that afternoon_

.

She reached The Mall with time to spare. With her heart in her mouth she parked her Prius, calmly unstrapped Joey and lifted him out of the baby seat. He was wearing a new outfit from Aunty Angela, was freshly bathed, and had a full stomach.

"No vomiting on us, Mister...are we clear?" she said to the smiling baby, who took the opportunity to let out a wet sounding burp, but fortunately didn't follow through. He was placed into his baby sling and Brennan decided to take a walk around the monuments on the way to the coffee cart to pass the time. The day was warm for D.C. at this time of year, but was much cooler than the humid climate of Maluku, so she had a pashmina scarf draped around her neck to protect Joey from the breeze that created ripples across the Reflecting Pond.

At five minutes before two p.m., she spotted him at the bottom of the Lincoln Memorial steps. Dressed in his Class A's, proud and polished, she felt a wave of attraction wash over her.

They had come full circle.

It was her move.

.

* * *

**A/N: Well, here we are...back at the start. Whoa! Next chapter is not far away, so I'd be interested to hear the feedback on this one.**


	37. The American Guy

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 37 - The American Guy**

**.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own BONES

**A/N: Here we are! So this is a different take on Chapter One...100,000 words to come full circle. I hope that you find the depth, and detail, since you no longer have to be directed to Google **_**'coitus'**_** to work out the **_**'how it happened'**_** part.**

**This will start out with a Brennan perspective of the reunion and continue following the family through their first few precious hours together. I truly hope that this has been worth waiting for...there will be three more chapters that will hopefully tie up loose ends. Thanks to Rankor01 for the **_**'old saying'**_** & the military beta advice :D**

**As I write this note, I'm looking at all the requests **_(& thinly veiled threats - Hahahaha!)_** around the issue of a sequel story **_(Yes, I adore Joey too & think that he has a promising and exceedingly cute dynamic as a character)_**...there is good and bad news here. The good news is that I have a plan and a working title **_**'The Progeny in the Partnership'**_**...the bad news is that I'm going to write it all up first, then post at a future date in very frequent updates. For those of you reading Pie...it will happen around the time of Chapter 50 being posted...I have to finish Pie first! **_(...that's what Booth said, right?)_

* * *

_May 20__th__ 2011 – The Mall, Washington D.C._

Brennan placed one foot in front of the other, drawn toward the tall man in Class A's who was looking down toward the Washington Monument. He was clearly deep in thought. Still reeling from her visceral reaction; that raw physical attraction that was so pleasurable that it was painful, she wanted to reach out and tap him on the shoulder, but she had to speak his name out loud, in his physical presence, to ground herself.

"Booth?" she said.

He flinched. He turned to face her.

Their eyes met and the emotional connection flooded back. Brennan held out her free hand to grasp his, just as they had when they parted at Dulles twelve months ago. When their hands met, she knew. She knew it had all been worth it, that she had achieved what she set out to do a year ago...to find that elusive drawstring connection that would pull her emotional fragments into something that could successfully hold and sustain love.

.

Dragging her eyes away from his, she openly ran her gaze up and down his body, a smile playing at the corner of her lips as she noted that he did the same to her. She wasn't sure if she could hold back the passion and the tears that were approaching boiling point within her.

Brennan had to say something, so she stuck with objectivity for starters, trying not to let the tears emerge. "I can see that you stayed safe. No unnecessary heroism. I note a few new medals, which suggests that you were called upon to be a hero at some point," she offered.

He squeezed her hand at her words and reciprocated in kind, clearing his throat before speaking. "Bones...I see that you discovered many special things in the jungle. Would you mind formally introducing me to your _Australian_ companion?" he asked with a small grin.

"Certainly. I assumed that you had not dressed in full uniform simply to meet me" she replied. Her eyes abandoned the roaming inspection of his body and met his.

Releasing their joined hands, she slipped her bag off her shoulder and lowered it to the ground. He stepped in closer, almost surrendering to the urge to kiss her senseless, but he glanced down at the baby sling...there was someone that he had to meet first.

"Seeley Booth, I would like you to meet Joseph. Joseph, meet Seeley," she announced with a small grin of amusement.

Unable to stop himself from touching her, Booth extended his hand forward, and she flicked her pashmina scarf away from where it obscured his view of their son, who was fast asleep, missing the reunion. Brennan gave a small roll of her eyes at the ability of her son to just take a nap; anywhere, anytime.

She gave a wide smile at Booth when he saw the sleeping face, knowing that the facial structure mirrored his own...there was pride in his expression. She teased him gently. "I would like to apologise for Joey's rudeness, Booth. It appears that ambulating across The Mall has induced a temporary state of somnolence. I assure you that he will awaken soon. He naps frequently and it is still the middle of the night for us."

"Do y'think if I was careful not to wake him, Joey would mind if I kissed his Mom?" teased Booth right back, as the heat of the chemistry between them became almost too intense to bear.

Her right hand grabbed the lapel of his neat uniform and she pulled him closer. "I believe that I speak for the entire family in support of that suggestion. Now shut up and kiss me Seeley Booth."

"Yes Ma'am!" he retorted smartly, before leaning in to place his lips over hers in welcome. Almost stumbling against him in an attempt to get as close as possible, his arm shot around her waist and pulled her body flush against his. It was a little awkward given the intrusion of a small sleeping human in the sling between them. Their lips released their hold on each other for a second, then as they adjusted and realigned, reconnected, returning for a deeper, more impassioned welcome. The tears of relief, joy and regret ran down their cheeks, some meeting and mingling, others running freely and missing their moment in a lacrimal life lesson.

.

Joey chose that moment to squeak and rouse, finding himself sandwiched in his very first family hug. His eyes opened to see a pair of faces staring and smiling at him as he shifted a little to get comfortable; his face was calm, as if noting that one of those faces was in fact his Mommy, and that he was warm and safe. Joey self-pacified by placing his fingers in his mouth, hearing the familiar deep voice from his bedtime stories and feeling the comforting warmth of fingers brushing his head.

"He's pretty cute for an _Australian_, Bones," said Booth with a smile, his fingers wiping the tears from her cheeks, and then using the back of his hand to roughly remove his own.

.

"Let's go home, Booth," she suggested. "Do you want to carry Joey back to the car? I can take your bag..." she offered.

He gave a laugh. "I can manage a baby and a bag, Bones. It's not as if I'm running six miles with a big green tick..."

She peeked inside the sling. "Your Daddy is obviously a tough guy, and I have no idea what a big green tick is...but you should try to avoid any regurgitation on his dress uniform," she advised her son.

"He's awake again?" he asked, leaning in to peer inside, finding a small gummy smile waiting for him. "Okay, pal...come to Daddy...whoa...you're a lightweight!" exclaimed Booth as he reached in and extracted Joey and swung him upward for a brief inspection. The baby squealed with delight and Brennan bit down on her lip to stop herself from crying over the moment. She unwound her scarf and lifted the cotton sling over her head.

.

Booth saw the reaction and directed a knowing smile at her. "You can bet your ass that you're gonna get your own dose of _'Come to Daddy'_ when I get you alone..." he growled at her playfully.

She burst out with a laugh that made Joey chortle along with her. "I am looking forward to having sex with you too," she managed bluntly, as she placed the now folded lemon cotton sling to protect one shoulder of his Class A's.

"Mommy and Daddy are going have learn to stop talking about S-E-X in front of you, little guy!" he said to Joey as he was duly hoisted onto a shoulder and wrapped lightly against the breeze. "Eh, you're not regulation kid, but what the Hell..."

Booth glanced at the perplexed expression on the face of his son, it mirrored a certain _'I don't know what that means'_ look that he'd seen a time or two over the years. When Joey gave a small insecure pout at the new person in his life, Booth grabbed Brennan's hand again and pulled her in closer to him so that she faced Joey across his chest.

"Mommy's here, little man, we've just got to adjust to sharing, okay?" he said gently, pacing a kiss on the forehead of their son, who waved a hand toward his mother and cooed at her with a mini-charm smile.

"He wants raspberry phalanges..." she announced with a grin, capturing the small hand and blowing a raspberry against his palm, then holding the hand up for Booth's contribution to the game.

Brennan smiled as Joey quickly became distracted by ribbons and shiny insignia within grasping range on his father's chest. She hoisted the bag by its strap. It was surprisingly heavy. "What have you got packed in here?" she asked, when he took the bag and slung it over his empty shoulder.

"Six months worth of dirty laundry..." he quipped. "You do _'do'_ laundry, don't you?" he asked with a waggle of his eyebrows, slapping her on the rump before putting an arm around her waist.

They strolled in the direction of the parking lot. "You know I'm going to make you pay for that," she said conversationally.

"You know I'm counting on it..." he said before a tug at a shiny metal insignia attracted his attention. "What? You want _'more'_ raspberry phalanges?" he complained to Joey with a big grin, which was returned in a smaller, gummier iteration. A small hand was duly placed against lips for the combination of sound and tickling sensation that made the baby squeal and chuckle huskily. "I'm guessing that Mommy doesn't have any raspberry rationing in place..." observed Booth with a put upon sigh.

.

* * *

The drive back to her apartment was similar in many ways to the one that they had taken a year and a day ago...except it was day time, she was wearing a traditional symbol of commitment on her left hand...and of course, there was a baby strapped in the seat behind them. There wasn't much that they wanted to say right then in response to having taken an almost surreal step forward into their future. Silent glances, touches and gestures featured over the background of a small cooing and gurgling child in the backseat.

Booth insisted on carrying his now sleeping son up to the apartment, and gamely attempted to kiss the mother of his son to within an inch of her life in the elevator on the way, knowing that they would have company when they arrived.

.

Angela directed a knowing glance at her best friend, who was looking deliciously flushed with that _'just kissed'_ look. Booth gave a wave and a grin to Angela and Max, who had arrived to help set up for the gathering planned for a few hours hence. Making his way toward the portable cot that had been located next to the bedroom, he prepared to put the baby down. Brennan followed him through toting the car seat and baby bag, clearly unable to take her hungry eyes from the man walking in front of her.

.

Booth, proving himself to be an old _'baby Pro'_ managed to put Joey in the cot without waking him, he spread his arms wide with a cocky grin. Angela sauntered over to check out his still sleeping handiwork.

"Gimme a hug, Sarge!" she demanded. He complied. "That uniform...is just...wow!" she added as she wrapped her arms around him and planted a fond kiss on his cheek.

When Angela pulled out the hug, she made exaggerating fanning motions against her face in Brennan's direction. She whispered _(loudly enough for everyone to hear, bless her)_ "Sweetie, if you don't take that uniform off him soon, I will..."

Booth directed a brief but heated glance at Brennan. Max approached grinning widely, his right hand extended. "Good to see you home, Booth...I hope you don't mind taking a rain-check on a manly hug, but I've got this rule about hugs and men in uniform."

"Fine by me, G_randpa_," quipped Booth, taking Max's hand in a firm...make that a very firm handshake.

Max winced and shook his hand to return circulation to his fingers. "Wow, you've been working out, son!"

Booth gave Brennan a look of mock concern. "Even your old man wants me out of my Class A's...that's just creepy."

.

She smiled fondly at the ridiculous innuendo between the two Alpha-males. "We have guests arriving at six, so it would be advisable for you to change clothes at some point."

"Parker?" asked Booth with a big grin.

"Among others..." said Angela evasively.

"He helped Angela decorate the Nursery, so he's coming over with Rebecca for the official unveiling tonight," added Brennan.

Booth shook his head. "I spoke to him this morning, he didn't let on...I was gonna talk to Becca tonight..."

Angela laughed. "Parker's old enough to keep a secret, Booth!"

"So I'm discovering..." mused Booth.

.

Max suddenly slapped a hand to his forehead and muttered to himself. "Crap!"

"What?" asked Booth.

"I completely forgot...Tempe, can I take your car to the store?" asked Max.

"Of course," she replied, removing the keys from her bag. "I thought that we had everything that we needed, I checked the list that we made...what did you forget?"

Max spread his hands and glanced meaningfully at Angela for back-up. "Well, it's a little embarrassing..."

Angela's eyes popped wide with inspiration and she jumped into the fray. "It's my fault, Bren...we bought Peanut Butter Cups...but I ate them all...just like your Hershey Bar thing...remember?" she asked with a wide winning smile.

.

Booth did a double-take. "Wait, what? You're pregnant?" he exclaimed.

Angela patted her flat abdomen. "I know right? My Dad is still busting guitar strings over it..._'the World just ain't ready for a Grand-Pappy like me, Angie!'_," she drawled in imitation of her badass sire. "You know what? I'm craving those suckers so bad right now, I gonna need to eat some of them at the store...you got room for me to ride shotgun Grandpa Max?"

Max lifted the keys from Brennan's fingers. "Sure thing, Honey!" he said to Angela. "Let's go..."

Brennan frowned. "This isn't some kind of futile conspiracy to facilitate the conception of more grandchildren...?" she began.

"No, no, no...," said Max, grabbing Angela's hand and heading for the door. "We'll be back soon...besides, you've got sky high prolactin levels...and you're way too skinny, Tempe. Just hang out, get reacquainted, say _'hello'_ or something..."

"Say hello?" said Booth, as Max dragged Angela out into the hallway. Brennan shrugged thoughtfully, she didn't have a clue what her father meant.

Angela gave a naughty chuckle. "I'm not so sure about that, Max...after all, you know how the old saying goes,..._'and the second thing I'll do is say hello'_..."

The door clicked closed.

.

* * *

Brennan finally worked through the logic and gave a smile.

"What?" asked Booth.

"I just worked out what we do before _'hello'_," she said, pouting as she peeked at their sleeping son.

"Well that just saved us a five minute conversation," said Booth with a grin.

"You mean you don't want to talk?" she asked in mock innocence, turning to face him and reaching up to loosen his tie. "This uniform needs to come off..." she mused.

"I know how well you can multi-task..." The tie slipped off and through her fingers; he glanced around the corner through the bedroom door. "So do I have to drag you in there, or carry you?"

"You wouldn't dare...!" she protested, milliseconds before being thrown over his shoulder anyway. "What...?" Before she knew it, she found herself tossed onto her bed, looking up at _'Seeley Booth Fantasy Number 15'_, who shrugged off his dress jacket and placed it calmly over the back of a chair.

She propped herself up on her elbows and smiled. "I stand corrected. It appears that indeed you would dare."

He climbed onto the bed and loomed over her, pausing with his face a very short distance from hers; their breaths mingling. "Six months in a sandbox with only grunts and camel-jockeys for company?" he asked. "You bet your sweet ass, I dare!" he ground out.

"Then I dare you to show me how much you missed me," she challenged, making quick work of his shirt buttons.

"I don't think we have time to really do that one justice...but I can try," he said leaning down to nibble at the spot on her neck that he knew would drive her close to the edge. As predicted, within minutes she was writhing, hissing and bucking underneath him...he didn't expect the curse that exploded from her lips though.

.

"Damn-it! I need a minute, Booth," she announced a little breathless.

He rolled away from her. "You okay?

"Absolutely fine," she said, planting a reassuring peck on his lips as she pushed herself up off the bed and backed away to the bathroom with a hand over each breast. He propped himself up on his elbows, it was then that he noticed the two dark stains spreading under her fingers.

"Oh, crap...Joey's dinner, I'm sorry..." he began.

"Don't be..." she said with a chuckle as she disappeared into bathroom. "It's a natural reflex...and there's plenty for Joey, whenever he needs it..."

By the time he reached the bathroom she was naked from waist up; a happy coincidence that she noted in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. He was propped casually up against the doorframe wearing only dress pants, a belt and regulation socks.

"So breasts are off-limits?" he asked her as she turned and approached him with a hand towel slung over one shoulder.

"Not unless the prospect of sex, or my nursing our son makes you uncomfortable," she replied as his eyes travelled to her chest. "Does it make you uncomfortable?" she asked.

His eyes snapped back up to meet hers. "No way...I might get jealous if you started producing root beer...but breast milk, no. You've only got to look at the little guy to see the effort you put in. You're amazing...you know that, right?"

"My ability to lactate is simply a normal manifestation of having breasts as a secondary sex characteristic," she told him, sandwiching him between herself and the doorframe and ran her fingers down his torso demonstrating as she elaborated. "It's no more amazing than the development of your musculature, the masculine ratio of your waist to your hips, the higher proportion of thigh muscle in front of your femurs..." she said, taking his hands and guiding them behind her. "As a woman, I have more thigh muscle behind my femurs..." she added before pulling his head down for a brief but aggressive kiss.

He pulled her hard against him. "Well, right now I can't decide whether you're my _'Hot for Teacher'_ or my _'Hot Mama' _fantasy, but you're amazing to me, okay?"

"Take me back to bed and we can work out the answer to that..." she replied moving out of the bathroom, grabbing the waistband of his pants and dragging him along.

.

Before he knew it they were skin to skin and falling together.

"Crap!" he muttered into her clavicle a couple of minutes later.

"I can still hear Joey snoring out there. Is there a problem?" she asked.

He ran his lips along her jaw. "There could be if we don't use protection...y'know, _'condoms and prayer'_? I've got super swimmers, remember?"

She laughed softly. "I think we've already proven that _'condoms and prayer'_ are woefully ineffective, so I am unlikely to ever forget it. Trust me; it's all taken care of. Even if I hadn't already addressed the issue with Phil's advice, the probability of my conceiving another child would be extremely low...and as my father is continually keen to point out, I'm also underweight."

"So we need to fatten you up a little...but where were we?" he asked against her lips.

Employing the powers of her superior proportion of posterior femoral muscles, she reminded him.

.

* * *

When Max and Angela returned an hour later, Booth was taking Joey on a tour of his new home, making up ridiculous stories about the history of artifacts and curios on the shelves around the apartment to amuse the baby. If Brennan had been present, she would have busted his balls. The bonding appeared to be going well, even though Joey had taken the opportunity to puke on his father's clean T-shirt, a diaper change had occurred without incident as his mother slept on unaware.

"You got Tempe to take a nap?" asked Max, nodding toward the closed bedroom door.

"Nope, I had nothing to do with it. It was all Joey," Booth lied with a laugh. "He had a snack, then we went into the kitchen to make some tea for Mommy, when we got back, she was out to it."

"Nice work, but shame on you for pinning blame on Mini-Booth!" commented Angela. "From what I've seen the past few days, the woman barely sleeps...or eats."

"Well, that's gonna change...isn't it Joey?" said Booth tickling his son, who gave a cheeky laugh and contributed a little more puke to the front of his father's shirt in approval.

* * *

**A/N: Next up** **- a few visitors.** _**Tell me if it was worthwhile my pulling an all-nighter to wrap this chapter up.**_


	38. Written in the Stars

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 38 - Written in the Stars**

**Disclaimer:** BONES is not mine. But Joey is...LOL!

**A/N: Thank you for the words of support, for trying to convince me that doing things like writing instead of sleeping, is noble instead of nuts. Seeing as I am only on a roll with this story when I'm up at 3 a.m., it is getting done a little faster while Pie bakes in the background...Pie is still being written, but at a slightly slower pace.**

* * *

_May 20th 2011 - Washington D.C._

Seeley Booth hadn't even considered taking a power nap before all their guests arrived. Getting to know his new son _'man to man'_ was kind of entrancing. They were having a great time exploring the kitchen cabinets and pantry on a Boothy kitchen adventure. Max had popped out to pick up Russ from the airport, so Booth had been pottering around the kitchen with Angela, helping set up trays of finger food, talking about how good it was to finally be home, and the fact that Bones had stayed asleep for over an hour. When he was asked about the last time he'd gotten some rack time himself, he was still thinking in Zulu time; a quick calculation in his head surmised that it had been almost twenty-four hours.

.

At just after four p.m. local time, Angela put a hand on her hip and gave him the evil eye. "Booth, you're making me sleepy just looking at you. Hand over that gorgeous kid and get horizontal. You know Parker is going to run you ragged when he gets here, so you owe it to yourself to take a break."

"Yeah, you've got a point there, Ange," said Booth as he took the small fistful of T-shirt out of Joey's hand before it got chewed upon. Fatigue hit him.

Angela held out her hands and smiled brightly at Joey. "Hey, Bonny Prince Boothy! Wanna come hang with Aunty Angela for a while?" she asked, receiving Joey's gummy charm smile in response. Booth handed over the baby and planted a kiss on Angela's cheek before kissing Joey on his forehead.

"Right, nap time. Bring Joey through if he gets unsettled, okay?" he said, scrubbing at the short hairs on the back of his scalp. Angela rolled her eyes at his over-protective streak and cuddled Joey affectionately.

.

* * *

Booth entered the room that they had only ever shared a single night together in; something that was changing for good as of tonight. He tried to push aside the ever-present thoughts about the myriad of issues that they faced, good and not so good, but he was punch-drunk with fatigue. Angela was right; for now, he owed it to Parker and himself to get his head down for an hour. Bones had burrowed under the comforter in the slumber of the profoundly jet-lagged, having hit a temporal wall. He knew that he was in the same boat...it was the middle of the night for him too. He gave in to the physical, slipped off his jeans, and kicked off his shoes before climbing in under the covers being careful not to disturb her. But she was a light sleeper in Mommy mode.

Brennan turned over to face him barely awake. "I fell asleep. Is..."

He interrupted her, "Joey is fine. You need the rest. Aunty Angela has kidnapped our kid and sent me off to get a little shut-eye...go back to sleep Temperance."

She wrapped herself around him. "Okay...just a few more minutes," she said sleepily, not even able to manage a grudging tone.

.

Booth didn't think that he could get to sleep, recognising he was overtired. He shifted to accommodate the limbs that were curled around him and closed his eyes. A few brief moments of jet-laggy swaying messages from his middle ear were followed by a fast forward of images of airfields and transit points, briefings and brass, greetings and meetings, skin against skin... Taking a deeper breath to relax himself, he registered the new scents that banished old familiar sweat, desert boots, diesel and jet fuel...the slightly sweet and sour smell of baby puke, warm baby, clean linen, warm woman, home...

It wasn't quite a full sleep cycle that Booth achieved, but when he awoke just over an hour later to the muted sound of a Jack Hodgins guffaw out in the main apartment and a censure from his wife not to wake the baby, he glanced at the space next to him. Bones was curled on her side, already awake and studying the ring on her left hand intently; she startled slightly as she realised that he was awake.

.

"Hey..." he said with a small smile.

"Hi," she replied, grinning almost bashfully.

"It's not like you to be lying around...you waiting for something?" he asked.

"For you...to wake up," she replied. "Joey is down for a nap, so I thought I'd wait for you...I was just thinking..."

"About that ring? Or about how much you wanted to wake me up and jump me?" said Booth with a waggle of his eyebrows.

She gave a short quiet laugh. "There are a myriad of issues that we need to discuss, but I'll admit that I resisted a strong urge to wake you up for more sex."

He turned over to face her and pulled her flush against him. "I can't say I'd have been upset by that..." he said, placing his lips over her slightly predatory smile of delight.

Their earlier cautious mutual considerations were abandoned in a frenzied reminder of just how intense the physical attraction and need was between them. It was almost of a re-enactment of their final desperate four a.m. coupling prior to Booth's departure a year previously. No talking, no foreplay, barely enough time to get naked; just a primal desire to become carnally engaged in a dance as old as time. The decision as to who would set the pace for this race was taken by her as she pushed him onto his back, virtually vaulting onto him in eagerness. A couple of hours of sleep had been sufficient to give her a new lease on the day. Booth was inordinately pleased to see her sparkle return and resolved to make sure she took regular power naps until that sparkle returned permanently. But for now, she seemed intent on trying to wear him out; something that he found he wanted to do right back at her.

.

A few breathless minutes later they were sprawled across the bed in the afterglow, bickering about who was going to shower first. Hearing a grumpy wail of hunger from outside the bedroom, Brennan hopped up and announced that she was showering first because _'somebody'_ needed a feed. Diaper duty and second shower fell to Booth; he couldn't argue with the logic. He pulled on his boxers and jeans, dug a fresh T-shirt out of his duffle and headed out on a mission to clean up a baby's butt.

.

* * *

Angela had already got Joey perched on her hip and was rummaging around in the baby bag for diaper changing necessities. Joey had quit complaining and was hopefully grasping at her breast in an instinctive response to his hunger. She glanced down at the baby with her classic _'no way in Hell'_ expression. "Sorry, cutie," she said to Joey. "Wrong meal ticket..."

Hodgins was leaning against the kitchen counter wearing an expression jammed half-way between dreamy delight and mild amusement. When Booth exited the bedroom, Hodgins strode across the room and pulled Booth into a backslapping bear-hug of welcome.

"Booth! Great to have you back. You're looking pretty ripped, my man. No decent pie in the Army Mess?" Hodgins wrinkled his nose. "Dude, you smell like sex..."

.

Angela gave a snort of laughter that made Joey smile.

Booth gave Hodgins a glare. "D'you mind backing off on the sex talk in front of my kid?"

"Guilty as charged, huh Sarge?" drawled Angela. "Where's Bren? Waiting for the feeling to return to her legs?"

"No, she's in the shower," replied Booth with a look of mild disdain. He put out his arms for Joey with a smile. "Come to Daddy..."

Angela gave Booth a sultry grin and spoke to Joey as she handed him over. "...and I'm betting _'that'_ is what your Daddy just said to your Mommy..."

"Ain't that the truth," agreed Hodgins.

"Will you two cut it out?" said Booth, getting exasperated. He took the baby over to a folding change table that was set up next to the cot. "Okay little guy, let's get you cleaned up so you can have dinner before our visitors get here."

.

Angela brought over the baby bag just as Booth opened up the dirty diaper; she gagged prettily. "Ugh! How can a cute little thing like him make smells that bad...I think I'm gonna puke!"

"Probably it's just because you're pregnant...too late to cancel the order now, Angela," quipped Booth, before returning his attention to the poopy mess at hand.

Booth continued on with his task as Angela tried to stave off a series of dry retches. "There sure is a lot of poop here, Joey. What has your Mommy been feeding you, huh?"

.

Hodgins leaned over to peer at the poop. "It looks like fairly standard infant excrement to me, probably bulked up a little by the introduction of fruit and rice cereal..."

"...but mostly just breast milk," added Brennan with a grin, as she arrived fresh from the shower. "You must be missing the Lab, Hodgins, if you're having to resort to analysis of the excreta of a healthy baby."

Booth finished cleaning up and fastened the fresh diaper up. "Of all the things that we could be talking about...why poop?"

"I second that!" said Angela still looking queasy.

"You should go and shower now Booth. Our guests will be arriving soon, and you smell like sex," said Brennan slapping him on the rump.

"Hey! Watch the merchandise, Bones," complained Booth, as he picked up the now wriggling baby and passed him to his mother. Booth tossed the small bag containing the dirty diaper to Hodgins. "Here y'go...chain of evidence, Bug Man. You can handle it."

* * *

.

Joey Brennan Booth was sat on his mother's lap engaged in a battle to vanquish trapped wind when the first visitors arrived. Angela had negotiated for Parker to arrive a little earlier so that he could have some uninterrupted time with his Dad, and with his little brother. Parker wrapped his arms around Angela's waist and hugged her, before peeking around her body to spy Brennan and Joey on the couch. He broke free of Angela and dashed over with his eyes wide with excitement.

"Hi Bones!" said Parker, coming to a skidding halt on his knees on the hardwood floor in front of the couch. "Hi Joey-bro!"

Joey chose that moment to release a loud belch, then smiled.

"Whoa!" said Parker, impressed. "That was cool!" Parker took a breath and swallowed before responding with a belch of his own, which made Joey chortle with baby giggles. "Mom! I think he likes me..." he called over his shoulder.

"Parker! I don't think your belching at him is very polite...so how about excusing yourself?" asked Rebecca with a raised brow.

"Excuse me..." said Parker with a cheeky grin.

Rebecca was carrying a small gift bag and she gave a small gasp. "Oh my, he is so tiny...and except for those baby blues, he's just the image of Seeley."

"Most infants resemble their father in the first year of life; it's a developmental mechanism to promote bonding and avoid abandonment by the male parent," said Brennan.

.

"That's not gonna happen, Bones," announced Alpha-male Booth as he entered the room, throwing his arms wide. "C'mere big guy!" he said to Parker. The boy launched himself across the room into a tackle hug with his father.

"Would you like to hold Joey, Rebecca?" asked Brennan, standing to greet her. "I believe that Parker will try to monopolise opportunities for time with Joey when he has greeted his father properly."

"Great idea, Temperance." Rebecca held out her arms. "Hi there little guy, want to say hello for a minute?" she asked. The baby gave a shy smile and a another small belch as he was handed over.

Brennan gave her a hand towel. "He's just been fed, so he could regurgitate on you."

"Thanks," said Rebecca with a smile at Joey. She glanced at Booth and leaned in conspiratorially toward Brennan. "Hoo boy, that post-tour body. Months of three square meals, hard living and testosterone. Enjoy, but be careful he doesn't wear you out with all the extra work you've taken on." she advised.

Brennan gave a wicked grin in return, recalling some sage advice she had been given recently. "That's why Housekeepers and Nannies were invented, right?"

Rebecca laughed appreciatively, as she made funny faces at Joey. "True."

.

"Dad! I've got something to show you...it's awesome!" announced Parker, when his father put him back on the ground.

"I know, buddy. We've been waiting to see the Nursery that you decorated with Angela," said Booth.

"No, Dad. I only helped a little bit. Angela did all the work," said Parker shooting a smile over at his favourite artist. "This is so cool..."

"Oh, Lordy..." breathed Rebecca, as Parker lifted his T-shirt up over his head and lifted his arm up in the air.

"Look!" said Parker. "I got armpit hairs...two of them! Now we can talk about all that man stuff. I've got lots of questions..."

.

Booth looked like he'd been slapped, clearly not expecting the news. "Wow! Put your shirt back on Parker. Then gimme a high-five little big man..."

"Somebody just got hit with fatherhood both barrels..." commented Angela. "He sure is growing up fast, Rebecca."

"Don't I know it," said Rebecca. "Especially since it seems it wasn't so long ago that Parker was as little as this one."

Parker dashed over to give Brennan a hug. "You're so skinny now, Bones, with no baby in your belly any more. Did it hurt when Joey came out? Mom said to Angela last week, that it _'hurt like a bitch'_ when I was born, even with the drugs the doctors gave her at the hospital."

Brennan gave a smile and squeezed Parker tight for a moment before letting the boy go, and answering. "Joey wasn't born at a hospital, Parker. He was born at Eileen's house, in the Study, on the floor. It hurt a lot, there was no time for drugs...but it was worth it."

.

Max and Russ arrived just in time to hear Parker say sagely, "Y'know, now that I've got armpit hair, I'm starting to think that women are a little bit crazy."

"Now those are fighting words," said Max wryly, as Russ pushed past him to meet his sister in the middle of the room for a hug.

Booth gave a chuckle. "Max is right, Parks. Armpit hair rule number one: You can think that women are crazy...but you should never, ever, say it out loud."

"Unless you're legitimately drowning your sorrows in a bar with a bunch of guys over the issue," chimed in Hodgins.

"Not until he's legal drinking age, Bug Man," corrected Booth. "So the caveat doesn't apply until Parker turns twenty-one."

Parker looked between Hodgins and his father, confused. "Wait...guys have rules for this stuff? Now I'm thinking that men are crazy too..."

.

"Okay, so as far as I'm concerned, Parker, you've just redeemed yourself in the eyes of every woman in the room," said Angela. "Unlike you, Jack!" she said slapping Hodgins on the arm.

Max laughed as he came over and ruffled Parker's hair. "Welcome to puberty, pal. At least you're showing some promise when comes to talking your way out of trouble with women. Some guys never learn how to do that, isn't that right Russ?"

Russ rolled his eyes and released his sister from their hug.

"Are you in trouble with Amy, Russ?" asked Brennan with a note of concern.

"No, I'm not," replied Russ shooting a dark glance at Max. "Dad says that I don't stand up to Amy enough and that I go out of my way to avoid conflict. There's nothing wrong with wanting a peaceful life...and I like giving Amy and the girls everything that they need."

"Which means you're whipped, Son!" said Max.

"Were you any different when it came to Mom?" asked Brennan with a hand on her hip. She and Max had discussed many things during his stay in Australia with her; in most of his stories concerning her mother, Max went out his way to pander to the every desire of his wife; in a fascinating counterpoint to the hard-nosed approach that he took with everyone else. Which was precisely what he was accusing her brother of doing.

"Ooh, touché, Tempe," said Max with a grimace. He spread his hands in apology to his son. "So I'm a past Class President of the Whipped Husbands Club, sue me..."

.

Rebecca brought Joey over see his Uncle. "Do you want to say hi to Uncle Russ?" she asked Joey, who was currently engrossed in the earrings that dangled just out of his reach.

"Wow, Tempe...look what you did!" said Russ tickling Joey as he was handed over.

"I had help..." Brennan replied with a grin.

"Uh huh! Did Dad kick Booth's ass for knocking you up yet? Or is he getting too old and waiting for your brother to do it for him?" said Russ grinning at Booth as he poked fun at their father.

"Someone call 911, I'm wounded!" cracked Max.

.

"Does someone need a doctor?" asked Cam, as Booth stood back to let her and Michelle into the apartment.

"Technically, no..." said Max. "But the sight of you has made me feel better already, Dr. Saroyan."

"I can see that your charm is fully functional, Max," she said and gave Booth a wide grin. "Give me a hug, Seeley. You look great!"

Brennan came forward to greet her boss as Booth hugged her. "Apparently, it has something to do with square meals, hard living and testosterone...although I'm sure that it is the nutritional content rather than the shape of the meal that accounts for his current impressive physique."

"Agreed, Dr. Brennan," said Cam extracting herself from Booth so Michelle could get her hug too. "It's great to have you back and you certainly don't look as if you gave birth to a baby just a few short months ago."

"I can assure you that I did. Would you like to meet him? My brother Russ is holding him over by the window," said Brennan.

"Ooh, yes please!" burst out Michelle.

"You remember Michelle, my daughter...she's the President of the Joey Booth Fan Club," said Cam with a fond smile at Michelle.

"Yes. But I'm not having children until I'm at least thirty," said Michelle by rote. Cam gave a small sigh of relief, also by rote.

.

"Wait up, Bones..." said Booth. "All that stuff about my impressive physique. Did you just call me hot...in front of a room full of people?"

"I just had your baby, Booth. It stands to reason that I would find you extremely physically attractive...or in the vernacular...hot," replied Brennan, unable to resist the opportunity to run a finger down his torso.

"Woot!" exclaimed Angela. "All I need now is for George Clooney to tell me how disappointed he is that I'm married and my life is complete..."

Booth took Brennan by the elbow and opened the front door. "Just excuse us for a moment," announced Booth. "This calls for someone to get pinned against a door for a minute." He guided her out into the corridor as she laughed at his antics.

Brennan grabbed the door handle and poked her head through to the people watching on in amusement. "He's so shy for a cocky guy," she said with a grin as she pulled the door closed.

The sound of a heavy thud against the apartment door made everyone inside the apartment laugh.

* * *

The ping of the elevator arriving on the top floor of Brennan's apartment building went unnoticed by the couple engaged in a hot and heavy make out session against the front door.

.

"You'd think that I could at least meet the first baby, before the two of them got to workin' on a second one, Dr. Sweets," complained Caroline Julian to the dejected Psychologist at her side as she took in the scene on the threshold. "Haven't you heard of a bedroom, Booth? I'm pretty sure that most apartments in D.C. have at least one of those on the floor plan..."

.

Booth and Brennan separated, leaving Brennan still panting slightly against the door.

"You appear to have sprung a leak Dr. Brennan, you should go inside and change," suggested Caroline pointing at the two damp spots on her chest.

"That's your fault, Booth," complained Brennan.

"I had nothing to do with it!" retorted Booth.

"Oh yeah?" asked Brennan pointing at his own chest. "Your T-shirt shows evidence of transference, which proves your involvement!" Sure enough, there were two damp patches on his own chest.

"Crap!" said Booth.

"Take off your shirt and give it to me, Booth!" said Brennan, holding out her hand. Booth's jaw fell open at the double entendre. It was classic Bones, but given their current relationship, his mind jumped right into the gutter.

"Whoa!" said Sweets.

"Is this the time where I send Dr. Sweets here down to the convenience store for popcorn?" asked Caroline. "Because this is gettin' good..."

"No. We'll be going inside now," said Brennan with a smirk at Booth. "Take it off..."

Booth pulled the T-shirt over his head and handed it to Brennan. She opened the door to the apartment, covering her very damp chest with his shirt and darted inside with an evil chuckle.

.

Caroline elbowed Sweets, who still looked dejected. "Scratch the popcorn, Cher. I think I need a cigarette..." she said, staring at the ripped torso of Seeley Booth.

"I think I need a personal trainer," mused Sweets.

.

They followed Booth back inside. He put his hands in the air in surrender. "All you need to know is that she stole the shirt off my back..." This was greeted with laughter and applause from their gathered guests. The noise startled Joey and his face crumpled, he let out a fearful wail, making everyone _'Aww' _in sympathy. Booth took Joey from a now poleaxed Cam and cuddled him against his chest protectively until he settled.

Brennan exited the bedroom, still straightening her fresh shirt. She had a clean shirt for Booth in her hand.

"I'll trade you," said Brennan holding out the shirt.

"Maybe I wanna stay like this and hold onto Joey," he retorted, raising chuckles from the room.

"Maybe we're not complaining..." said Angela saucily. "Jack could take his shirt off too..."

"I thought this was a family gathering, not an all male revue!" said Caroline in mock outrage.

"I could take off my shirt too!" suggested Parker. "I've got armpit hairs...two of 'em!"

.

Understandably, this generated more hilarity; but Booth handed over the baby and took the clean shirt regardless. Brennan leaned in to speak quietly to Booth. "Can you take Joey and introduce him to Caroline? I need to talk to Sweets."

"You need help from Sweets? Can't it wait?" asked Booth puzzled.

"No, this isn't about me, Booth," she said poking him in the ribs. "I have a message for him, from Daisy."

"Oh, right...he does seem kind of down," said Booth. "Trade you a kiss for the baby?"

"Deal...but no tongue," she said with a smile.

"Spoilsport!" he said, kissing her lips briefly before taking Joey again.

.

Russ was helping Rebecca and Angela taking plates of food to the table. "Food is ready, come and get it!"

Brennan grabbed two plates and approached Sweets, handing one to him. "Try the seven layer dip, I made it myself," she suggested.

"Thanks. I will, Dr. Brennan," said Sweets. "Can I make an observation?"

"You usually do, whether or not I want you to..." said Brennan with a small smile to take the sting from her words.

Sweets noted her humour. "Motherhood has deepened you," he said.

"Are you suggesting that I was shallow before?" she asked with a raised brow.

"Not at all," said Sweets. "Your more relaxed demeanour, which would only occasionally surface in our past sessions and interactions, appears to be your new emotional norm...you've reached a new equilibrium."

"Perhaps," she said evasively, not really wanting to explore her emotional growth over finger food. "I have a message for you, Dr. Sweets."

"From Daisy?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. "Come out onto the balcony, I'll give it to you there."

Sweets blindly put a few slices of fruit on top of a slice of quiche and nodded quickly before following Brennan outside. He took a seat on a chair out on the balcony and Brennan leaned against the railing. She pulled an envelope from the pocket of her jeans and handed it to him silently.

"How is she?" asked Sweets.

"In love. Scared about what that means. Trying to find a way to reconnect with you," said Brennan.

"She hurt me when she left. I love her..." he said dejected.

"Daisy knows that...she's still wearing your ring," she told him quietly.

"It's just a ring. She left. It doesn't mean anything..." said Sweets.

Brennan gave a sigh and crouched down next to Sweets, placing her left hand over his clenched fist. "Sometimes, it helps to try on a traditional symbol of commitment for a while...to decide what it really means."

Sweets glanced at her intricate dolphin ring. "You married Booth?" he asked, raising his dark soulful eyes to meet hers.

She smiled at him. "No. But it doesn't detract from the symbol, or the commitment that it represents."

"You have a child with Booth now, Dr. Brennan. That's a lifelong commitment," argued Sweets.

"I know that," she said with a small grin. "But that is a commitment to raising our child. The ring is a commitment to each other. I see them as both distinct and common entities."

"That doesn't make any sense," said Sweets. "How can they be the different and the same."

She patted the back of his hand gently. "It's a paradox...which I have come to view as an anomaly that one must accept as part of the human experience. Booth and I may not always be committed to each other as much we are now, it is impossible to predict the future, despite the hopes that we harbour. We certainly won't always have a child to raise...Joey will grow up. For now, it has to be enough to just acknowledge what we have."

Sweets gave a smile. "Are you considering getting a fourth PhD, in Psychology? You're pretty convincing for a hard scientist, Dr. Brennan."

Brennan laughed softly. "I have far more important priorities, Sweets. Your position as Psychology's wunderkind is not under threat. Read your letter. Daisy will be back in a few weeks. I recommend Skype calls in the interim...but lock your office door first if you call her from the Hoover."

"Okay, thank you. I'll just sit here and read this, if that's alright," he said.

"You're a good man, Sweets. Take all the time you need," she told him, walking back inside.

.

* * *

Three hours later, the guests had gone, Joey was fed and sleeping in his cot in the new Nursery. His parents were laid on the soft cotton shaggy rug in the centre of the room, with pillows under their heads and the comforter that had been dragged from their bed. They were gazing at the ceiling of the room which was covered with night stars, clouds backlit by a bright moon drifted across the ceiling. In addition to photos that ran around the walls as low borders able to be touched and explored, even drawn on by a growing child, Angela had set up a projection system over the ceiling with a program that showed the sky, by day or night. The permutations of the program were many depending on the time of day, or the relaxation or entertainment factor required. There were colourful birds and hot air balloons, airplanes and rocket-ships, rainbows and mythical creatures. Right now, it was set on magical clouds that drifted across the ceiling sky with familiar shapes; teddy bears, turtles, dolphins, ducks, and bones...fluffy cloud renditions of every bone in the body. Angela had even put in a function that permitted the clouds to be pulled together to make pictures for any future budding Michelangelo. Parker had discovered the cloud-writing earlier and had the guests in fits of laughter as he wrote everything from sporting slogans to lines from limericks across the ceiling.

"We should drive down to see Pops tomorrow, if you're not too tired," said Booth. Hank had been recuperating from the flu and his doctor didn't want him to travel up to D.C.

"Going to see Hank is an excellent plan. I've been worried about him," she said.

"Me too. Let's call him in the morning...see what kind of night we have with Joey and plan from there," he said

"A scapula!" said Brennan, pointing to a bone-shaped cloud.

"You're having way too much fun with this, Bones," said Booth as he used the wand controller to draw initials and a love heart on the night sky.

"Romantic...very seventh grade...but romantic, Booth," she said with a low laugh.

She wrote some Greek and mathematical symbols across the sky.

"I have no idea what that means, but it looks complicated," he said.

"String theory...it describes an infinitesimally large quantity. It is supposed to represent how much I love you," she said with a small sigh.

"Right...post-doctoral stuff...romantic...squinty, but romantic," he said with a snort. "Okay, I've got a compromise, gimme a sec." He closed one eye and put the tip of his tongue between his teeth as he drew the numeral '8' laid on its side.

.

"Infinity? That much?" she asked, turning her head sideways to look at him.

He looked at her. "Yup. That much."

She rolled onto her side and began nibbling at his neck affectionately. "I could accept infinity as a compromise," she murmured against his ear. "Are you even listening to me Booth?" she asked as he exerted his concentration on more cloud-writing.

He caressed her face with his left hand as he worked. "Yeah,...I'm just wondering if Angela could hook up ESPN on this thing, get Joey into sports, y'know?" he said with a smile.

She jabbed him in the ribs. "Sports? He's not even five months old, Booth!"

"Wow! Look, a message in the clouds for Dr. Temperance Brennan..." he exclaimed.

She rolled onto her back and a smile spread across her face as she read the fluffy words.

.

"Yes. I will marry you," she said.

"I'm gonna need that in writing, Temperance," said Booth with a grin, rolling toward her.

She laughed and wrote _'Yes'_ across the ceiling-sky rapidly. He glanced up.

"You need to work on your cloud penmanship, but I'll take that _'Yes'_," he said.

.

**A/N: Woah, so much dialogue; so many characters...my head hurts! Final chapter next, then an Epilogue. I hope that you enjoyed this! Drop me a line if you did... **


	39. Crochet Patterns

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 39 - Crochet Patterns**

**.**

**Disclaimer:** If only...

**A/N: Sorry about the delay...I had a run in with a migraine. Just an epilogue to follow this chapter...then 'finito' for this story. I'll post an extended A/N at the end of the epilogue, for those of you who might be interested in some of the things that influenced this AU tale. If you have burning questions, feel free to PM or ask via review...I'll try to compose an entertaining answer - LOL!**

**Also, if I had a grandma to sell on e-Bay, I would gladly open the bidding to see the Diner scene play out from this chapter *Dang! Fans self***

* * *

_May 21st 2011 - Washington D.C._

Seeley Booth awoke to the sound of an infant gurgling and vocalising in response to the low voice of his mother. He and Brennan had drifted off into an exhausted sleep on the floor of the nursery following a midnight feed and now it was just after six a.m. Ignoring the creaking complaints of his lumbar spine, he lay still and quiet, listening in on the _'conversation'_, which really was more of a monologue. The low repetitive sound and vibration on the floor indicated that they were rocking gently in the large rocking chair that dominated one corner of the nursery.

"Hopefully your prolonged period of sleep indicates that you have finally adjusted to this new timezone," she said to Joey, who gave a gurgle in response. "Do you remember how our morning routine goes, young man? I sit here and talk to you after your early feed until you drift off to sleep again. Then I make my way to the shower and have breakfast, before preparing some fruit and cereal for you for when you wake up. Are you amenable to this course of action?" The baby made cooing sounds. "Excellent, I'm glad you concur. Today, we are going to visit your Great-grandfather, he is a very special man; hopefully you won't regurgitate on him. We have a busy day ahead of us...perhaps I could convince your father to make breakfast...or better still, take a shower with me and work up an appetite for breakfast," she chuckled huskily and Joey chortled in response. Brennan hushed him. "Nooo, no-no, don't laugh at that...I believe that your father is now awake and listening in...apparently, I shouldn't be discussing _S-E-X _in front of you, despite the fact that at this stage of your development, you are incapable of discerning the subject matter of vocalisations. Perhaps I should talk to you about the evolution of dinosaurs instead. Parker likes dinosaurs."

.

Booth rolled over onto his back and groaned at the resultant effects of yet another night away from a decent mattress.

"Perhaps your Daddy would be interested in some therapeutic intervention from my hands when you are fully asleep...I know that you are only half asleep, because you keep peeking at me to make sure that I am still here," she said to Joey. "Ah, that mischievous smile...I believe that you inherited it from Grandpa Max."

"Grandpa Max passed that down to his daughter. No way that skipped a generation, because that smile is plastered all over your face right now," he said stretching out, his joints popping and clicking in a firework display of synovial gas.

"Good morning. Does your back hurt?" she asked.

"Morning, Bones...no more than usual. How's our little guy?" he asked.

.

She was gently rubbing a small relaxing circle on the baby's forehead. "Almost asleep. He is so contented and calm in the early mornings, I have come to enjoy this part of the day the most as a mother. Combining the mundane tasks of a diaper change and some sustenance, with a brief bonding time in the quiet time of the morning...has become a special experience for me. Perhaps you would like to do this tomorrow?"

"Sure thing, do I give him formula, or wake you up to feed him?" asked Booth.

"Neither," she replied. "I have commenced a store of expressed milk in the freezer. Joey occasionally takes a daytime bottle. He tolerates it well, which gives you with an opportunity to bond with him at feeding times."

Booth sat up and scooted over to where she was rocking with their now sleeping son.

"You're okay with that?" he asked, a little surprised that she would consider delegating this task that she felt so strongly about.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked with a small smile. "I'll confess that I am looking forward to occasionally sleeping past five a.m." Her smile widened. "He's your son too, Booth."

"Do you want me to put him back in the cot, or take him through to the portable cot in the bedroom?" he asked, with a low laugh at her opportunistic cover story for the plans that she had in mind to facilitate the bonding with his son.

.

She toyed with Joey's limp hand, completely relaxed now in baby slumber. "It's reasonable for Joey to sleep in here during the day. We have to establish some sort of routine and we can take the baby monitor to wherever we are. I have to work on a journal article manuscript for an hour at some point today, if time permits, I'd like to complete this prior to leaving to visit Hank at the retirement village. I can keep the monitor with me if you have things that you need to do later on."

"No need for that, Bones. I don't have any plans except hanging out here with you guys," said Booth, kissing the top of her head. He reached over and gently lifted the sleeping baby from her lap, stepping over the pillows on the floor to put him in the cot. A light blanket was tucked around the baby and he raised the cot side until it clicked into place. Booth just stood looking down at Joey, who was in that peaceful state guaranteed to melt the hardest heart. Arms slipped around his waist from behind.

"Watching him sleep is almost hypnotic," she said. "I still find it astounding how much love I feel for him. I expected deep affection, perhaps tempered with mild indifference when I became fatigued...I was wrong."

"Temperance Brennan admits she was wrong..." he chuckled turning to face her and looping his arms around her as they half-walked, half-danced around the scattered bedding on the floor on their way toward the hallway. "You're enjoying being a Mom...one day soon you're gonna be my wife...if you tell me you have a secret stash of graphic novels around here, I'm gonna cry like a fu...darned baby."

"Alas, no comic books. However, I find your attempts to restrain your military-honed propensity for profanity very endearing," she said with a smirk as her hands ran down over his firm gluteals. "But you shouldn't have to censor yourself around me; your earthy idiom is somewhat arousing..."

.

Booth picked up the baby monitor receiver from the chest of drawers next to the door and spoke into it. "Dispatch. This is 22705, advising that I have a hot suspect in custody; one Brennan, Temperance, AKA Bones. Proceeding to take suspect in for naked interrogation. Back up not required, repeat, backup not required. 22705 out."

"I dare you to do that for real when we get back to to work, Booth," she said shaking with suppressed laughter and poking him in the ribs to extract herself from his embrace. "You're not going to throw me over your shoulder again are you?"

"Nah, missed the element of surprise," he said making a grab for her anyway.

She dodged and darted away. "You'll have to catch me, G-man!"

"Crap!" said Booth to himself as she hovered in the hallway, poised to run. He rolled his eyes and spoke into the handheld baby monitor receiver again. "Dispatch, 22705 advising in hot pursuit of suspect spotted on the corner of Nursery and hallway, heading toward bedroom. May require forceful submission using my _'weapon'_. 22705 out."

She snorted with laughter and ran. He trotted after her with a single backward glance at the blissfully unaware baby. When he entered the bedroom he didn't see her, but braced himself for incoming impact as she ambushed him, spilling them both onto the bed in the process.

"And you call yourself a cop..." she whispered teasingly in his ear from her spread-eagled position over him, getting herself flipped onto her back and pinned down for a very thorough kissing in retaliation.

.

* * *

_The Royal Diner - 07:45 hours_

The bell over the front door of the busy diner tinkled, as it did hundreds of times each day. The eyes of the counter staff flicked up toward the door on autopilot; the early morning rush was tailing off, but there were still half-a-dozen breakfast orders to be picked up by regulars on their way to the office. Both of the women on the counter did a double-take, glanced each other, and then did a _double-double-take_ as they saw two long lost regulars come through the door, accompanied by a baby in a car seat. Black coffee spilled over onto the counter, its pouring forgotten in shock. The affected neglected customer let out a low curse, and hasty apologies were made. Seeley Booth gave a cocky wink to the counter staff as their eyes flicked between the bulging deltoids and biceps on his left arm and the baby in the car seat it was carrying. He made his way to their usual table with his smiling partner in tow.

Booth had cleverly suggested that a trip to the Diner for breakfast would be a good idea, after his morning _'apprehension and interrogation'_ had turned into a languid and extended lovemaking session. Deciding wisely to shower separately, they managed to get organised in time for Joey's awakening, bundling him up and putting the car seat into the back of the Mercedes Coupe instead of the Prius. Brennan had wanted to take the vehicle for a run today, seeing as Jack had brought it over from his garage on the previous evening, and the ninety-minute trip to Pop's retirement village was an ideal opportunity to do so. Booth had nagged her all the way to the Diner, asking her if he could drive...he loved that Merc. But feeling a tad obtuse, Brennan remained non-committal on the issue, probably because it was still worthy of banter points.

.

Janine, who had won the coin toss behind the counter, came out to the table to take their order, beaming and taking time to welcome back the couple, and the Diner's newest customer, who was more interested in the small bowl containing rice cereal and fruit being spooned into his mouth than socialising. Joey was making enthusiastic noises between mouthfuls, his eyes boggling at the taste of stewed apple and pear; he waved his arms and legs around in his car seat enthusiastically.

"That is so darned cute, Bones," said Booth. "Did you teach him how to do that?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes at him. "I added pears to his diet a couple of mornings ago, Joey clearly enjoys the taste."

"I can't wait to let him try some pie," enthused Booth. "Matter of fact, I forgot to order some...what was I thinking?"

"Booth! It's breakfast time..." complained Brennan.

"Not what my gut is telling me...it's still on Afghani time," he said with a waggle of his brows as he jumped up to ask one of the counter staff to add a slice to their order.

.

By the time Booth had finished chatting with the counter staff and the short order cook who had come out to engage in a raucous welcome, engaging him in a complex combination of hand grips and knuckling, Joey had finished his cereal and was having his face and hands cleaned up.

"Can you unbuckle him from the seat, Booth?" she asked, as she rummaged around in the bag with Joey's necessities in it.

"Okay," said Booth grinning at the baby, who was looking bewildered at the new environment. "C'mon lil' guy, out you come." He pushed the button to release the safety straps then lifted Joey out, shifting the car seat under the table and taking the seat next to Brennan.

She slid a bottle down the table toward Booth with the remainder of the milk that she had used to make up the cereal. "The two of you wanna give that bottle a try, Daddy?" she drawled at him.

"Ooh, look what the barkeeper served up for you, Joey! No safety-net, kiddo...and a public performance, do you think we can hack it?" asked Booth of the baby in his arms, who just gave him a gummy smile in response.

"I could always add the remaining milk to your coffee," she teased.

"Nice, Bones...but I'll pass," he said with an expression of mock horror on his face. He took the bottle and tucked Joey into the crook of his arm and offered him the bottle, giving Brennan a cocky smile and bumping shoulders with her when the baby started guzzling the milk down. "Down the hatch, little guy!"

.

She poked out her tongue at him and shook her head slightly as she took a sip of her decaf coffee, noting the attention that was being paid to the Booths in her life. Their food arrived, and the ladies working at the Diner were trying their best not to melt behind the counter at the sight of the muscle-bound man in his snug T-shirt bottle-feeding a cute little baby.

Brennan was ravenously hungry and tucked in to her granola with extra fruit on the side. Booth had made a slower single-handed start on his cooked breakfast and had made progress through perhaps a third of his meal when Joey finished his bottle. She offered to take the baby for winding seeing as she had finished her own breakfast in record time. He shrugged and moved his chair back a little so she could lean over to take the baby who now looked punch-drunk after his relatively heavy meal. As she leaned in she planted a brief kiss on Booth's lips, but pulled away before he could kiss her back. Before she lifted Joey up, she placed the piece of toast that she had swiped from Booth's plate into her mouth.

"Hey!" he complained bitterly, throwing her a wounded glance. "You stole my toast...and you kissed me under false pretences!"

"I'll buy you more," she said around a mouthful of toasted loot. She put Joey over her shoulder and started rubbing and patting his back. "What? I'm hungry, Booth..."

He picked up his cutlery and prepared to clean his plate; it had been a long time between Diner breakfasts. "I'm gonna have to seek compensation, Temperance. Hand over the keys..."

She gave a chuckle and dug the keys to the Mercedes out of her pocket, as she juggled the baby and her toast.

.

Two eggs, a hash brown, a sausage, and a few slices of bacon later, Booth leaned back and patted his stomach contentedly. "That. Was. Awesome."

Brennan nodded toward Janine who was bringing over a couple of plates, one of which was clearly Booth's pie. "I hope you have room for pie..." she said.

"Geez, I've been in Aghanistan, not the Twilight Zone...there is always, _always_, room for pie!" he informed her sagely. He burst out laughing when he saw what was on the second plate. It was a very tiny slice of pie that some wit behind the counter had cut down to size.

"If that is intended for consumption by Joey, I'm afraid I won't allow it," said Brennan with a concerned expression, putting the last corner of toast into her mouth.

"Aww, Bones, it's just a joke is all. These guys are just happy to see us back. They know he's too young for pie!" he said laughing and waving at the staff behind the counter.

"Oh, I see. That is quite amusing." Brennan smiled and waved at the staff too. Joey just gave a satisfied belch and was seated back on his Mom's lap, where he started gurgling and giggling at Booth.

"Maybe you could eat Joey's pie...y'know, so he gets some pie anyhow," said Booth nodding at her chest meaningfully, a forkful of pie poised at his lips.

"Completely implausible!" she retorted taking the tiny wedge of pie between her fingers and popping into her mouth, screwing up her face at the sweetness as she made a show of reluctantly chewing and swallowing, whilst trying not to gag. Looking at the smidgeon of apple filling particulates remaining on her index finger, she placed it at Joey's mouth and offered him a taste. The sweet morsel on his infant palate made the baby's eyes pop wide open and a small series of comically reactive expressions to play over his baby face.

"I know you're not a fan, but I think he likes it," suggested Booth with a smile.

Brennan just laughed and picked up Joey so his face was at her eye level. "We will allow you to form your own opinion, Joey," she told the baby sincerely, kissing the tip of his nose.

.

* * *

Spending just over an hour back at home, Brennan worked on the journal manuscript for the looming deadline while Booth took care of bath time. They packed up the truckload of baby related equipment in the Mercedes and hit the road. Booth was at the wheel still claiming his right to compensation for the breakfast raid. Brennan calculated the projected mileage that he would be extracting from a single stolen piece of toast, and the bickering session was kicked off before they even reached the highway. Twenty minutes into the drive, Joey was sleeping; twenty-five minutes into the drive, Brennan was also asleep.

Arriving at the retirement village at around eleven, Brennan awoke as the Mercedes navigated the speed humps within the parking area of the complex.

"I was poor company for the drive, Booth," she looked over her shoulder at their sleeping son. "We both were."

Booth pulled into a shady parking spot and grinned at her. "Nah, you guys needed the sleep. I just enjoyed the drive...no checkpoints, no radio chatter, no IED's..." he said tapping the steering wheel. "Plus this baby handles _waaay_ better than any Humvee."

.

She unfastened her safety belt and leaned over, kissing his cheek affectionately. "Have I mentioned how glad I am that you're home, Booth?" she asked.

He swept her bangs aside and kissed her forehead. "Well, not in so many words, but you've _shown_ me how glad you are quite a few times. Believe me; I'm glad to be back. Pops is going to be over the moon to see you and Joey."

"Hank will no doubt be overjoyed to see you too..." said Brennan.

His smile turned cocky. "That goes without saying, I'm a loveable guy!"

"But I just did say it..." she retorted with a wrinkled brow.

"C'mon, let's unload the baby gear and find Pops. He said something about wanting to get out of choir practice, so we'd better go and rescue him," suggested Booth.

.

Five minutes later, a bleary-eyed Joey was snuggling at Brennan's chest as they waited in the foyer for Hank to arrive.

"Shrimp!" called out Hank from across the foyer; he made his way over with the aid of a walking stick, which was a new accessory.

They walked over to meet Pops who waved them over to a sunny alcove next to full length windows that looked out onto manicured gardens. Booth put down the bags and baby carrier next to the couch and turned around with his arms wide, ready for a hug, discovering that he had to get in line. Brennan had put an arm around Hank's shoulder and they exchanged fond kisses as Joey stared at Pops with solemn blue eyes, slightly unsure about the new face.

.

"Hey Pops!" said Booth. "Great to see you..."

"Glad to see you back in one piece, Shrimp," said Hank, his voice rough with emotion. "You too Temperance...always knew the two of you would make beautiful babies...glad I lived to finally see it."

Booth gathered Pops into a backslapping bear-hug, his brow furrowing in reaction. Pops clearly still hadn't fully recovered from his flu; but to Booth, his grandfather felt...frail. He knew that Pops wouldn't live forever, but it was confronting to realise that the old man had taken a definite step down Mortality Road; just as Parker had moved in lockstep on his own life journey toward adulthood in his absence.

They sat down companionably, with Brennan taking the space next to Hank on the couch. Joey was sat on her lap, immediately becoming attracted to the shiny handle of the walking stick that was wedged between the couch cushions.

Hank gave an indulgent guffaw of laughter. "You want my walking stick, lil' cocktail shrimp?" he said, moving the stick so the baby could grasp it in his hands. "Well you're welcome to it kiddo...darned interfering Physical Therapists...Physical _'Terrorists'_ is more like it...telling me my balance is off."

"Did you experience middle ear problems with your recent illness, Hank?" asked Brennan, distracting Joey from putting his mouth on the walking stick with a cute, but improbably coloured blue and orange stuffed dinosaur toy.

"Sure did, Honey. Spent a week giddy and puking, on top of feeling like someone had taken a baseball bat to me," replied Hank.

"Then your residual balance issues should resolve in coming weeks...you won't need the stick permanently. Your gait is otherwise unaffected," she commented.

"Are you sure?" Hank asked. She nodded. "The way those therapists were carrying on, I was heading for a walking frame by Christmas!"

"Not unless you were to fall and injure yourself, Hank...but you have your stick until your balance issues resolve, so that is an unlikely outcome," she said with a smile, as Booth watched on amused at her gentle bossiness.

"Ah, why can't my therapists be as gorgeous and persuasive as you are?" mused the old man, enjoying being bossed around a little.

.

"Are you hitting on my girl, Pops?" teased Booth.

"Damned straight, Shrimp," Hank replied with a guffaw of laughter as he leaned in toward Brennan conspiratorially. "Run away with me...I'll treat you right, and I'll feed you well...get some of those luscious curves back on that body of yours."

Brennan bumped shoulders with Hank and smiled. Joey grabbed onto Hank's shirt and was now showing interest in his great-grandfather, who held out his arms to take the now smiling baby. "I'm afraid your elopement offer has arrived too late," she said with a smile. "I have already agreed to marry your grandson."

"Yeah, that's right Pops...we're making it official!" drawled Booth.

"Did you get Max's blessing yet?" asked Hank slyly as he played with the chubby cheeks of the baby.

"Nope. You're the first to know..." said Booth.

Brennan chimed in, taking the bait. "Although I don't need my father's permission to get married, I will consider asking him to assume the traditional role of _'father of the bride'_, fulfilling the requirement to be _'given away'_ in the superfluous and archaic spirit of the ritual."

"That's nice, Honey...So where's the engagement ring...show me the rock kids!" asked Hank.

Booth squirmed uncomfortably. "Umm...Pops, I mentioned that when I called you earlier, remember?"

Brennan's brow wrinkled prettily. "We haven't purchased a ring...Booth only asked me last night..." she said.

"Geez!" crowed Hank. "I haven't lost my wits yet, I'm just playing with you...and it's a lot of fun isn't it little fella?" he asked Joey, who launched into fits of baby giggles, making everyone smile.

.

"I asked Pops if he could show you Grandma's ring...he's been hinting at me for a couple of years that I should offer it to you," said Booth.

"Here, Shrimp," said Hank, digging into the pocket of his cardigan, extracting an old velvet pouch. "I had it cleaned and the stone settings checked by one of my crochet friends, she's a retired jeweler, very skilled with her hands..."

.

Booth ignored the innuendo from Pops, left his seat and settled on his knees next to the couch, taking the pouch and opening it. He removed the ring, which was a classic fifties platinum ring with a relatively low profile set of three square cut diamonds in Art Deco style.

"This is an extremely beautiful piece, Hank. It looks European," said Brennan, holding the ring up to the natural light flooding in from the garden, looking for a maker's mark.

"Ha! You don't miss a trick!" said Hank. "I got this ring by fishing a guy out of a canal in Amsterdam, back in '52...the week after Eisenhower got in. Our guys on R&R were mighty rowdy, hoping to get sent home for Christmas, wishing for a political miracle. Me and a couple of my M.P. buddies were off-duty, trying to stay warm by drinking schnapps, when we happened across a bar fight that had spilled out onto the street. Guy gets tossed into the canal...it's night time, close to freezing. Figured the guy might die, on account of the water being freezing too. I was young, dumb...and full of schnapps, so like a fool, I jumped in to rescue him."

"That was incredibly brave of you," commented Brennan.

Hank gave Joey a wink and a funny face. "It was incredibly stupid...if one of my buddies hadn't been sober enough to grab a boat hook to help me out, I wouldn't be here telling the story today."

"So did you find the ring on the body of the man who was pushed into the water?" asked Brennan. Booth snorted with laughter at her default position in her question, automatically assuming the man had perished.

"No, no, he lived!" cackled Hank. "Looked like a corpse when we dragged him out though. Found his ID in an oilskin wallet with a bunch of grey rocks and managed to get him back to where he lived. Turned out he was some kind of diamond merchant...the bunch of rocks were uncut diamonds! Worth more than what me and my buddies could make in ten years. His family took us in, treated us like heroes; insisted we stay the night. Next morning, Johan, the guy we rescued, gave us three rocks a piece. Instead of blowing all my combat bonus on an engagement ring for my girl, Johan cut those stones for me and had the ring made…I got married on my next Liberty. With the money I had left over, I put a deposit on a house when I got out after the Armstice the following year."

"Amazing story, huh, Bones?" said Booth.

She ran her fingers along his jaw fondly. "I can see now where you get your heroic streak from."

"So Temperance," interrupted Hank. "I think it's a damned shame that a ring with a story like this one isn't being worn. Would you do an old man a favour and keep the story alive."

She leaned over and kissed Hank gently on his cheek. "I'm an Anthropologist. You knew I wouldn't be able to resist this."

"Yeah," admitted Hank. "I figured that much...but I had to wait for Shrimp here to get his act together. I know I'm still a stud in the crochet circle, but I'm too old to get married again."

Brennan gave a chuckle and said to Booth. "I believe I know where your cocky tendencies were inherited from too."

.

"So put it on already..." said the old man with a laugh that made his great-grandson dissolve into another fit of husky giggles.

"Here," said Booth. "Let me..." He took the loose Monkey Mia ring from her ring finger and put it onto her middle finger as she tried to roll her eyes at him, but only succeeded in making tears run down her cheeks.

"This is it, Booth," she said, leaning forward to place her forehead against his. "You'll be stuck with me...my brains, my beauty, my body, my babies..."

"_Our_ babies…" he corrected slipping the ring over her knuckle and up her finger. "Y'know, Bones...in fifty years, we could end up in a place just like this one...stuck with each other."

"Will you still crochet with me, Booth?" she asked cheekily, giving a sideways glance at Hank, who chuckled appreciatively, bouncing the smiling baby on his knee.

"Yeah, I will...seeing as Pops has set that standard, I guess I'll have to live up to it," he replied.

.

* * *

FIN

A/N: Stay tuned for the epilogue...let me know if you liked this :D


	40. Epilogue

**The Progeny in the Parting**

**Chapter 40 - Epilogue**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own BONES. No infringement is intended...just having fun!

* * *

_October 31st 2011 - Washington D.C. 7:00 p.m._

Dr. Temperance Brennan was putting the final touches to her outfit; she glanced critically at her reflection in the mirror and dabbed a little more concealing powder under her eyes for good measure. Hearing whooshing airplane noises from the main living area, it was evident that Joey and his father had finished up in the main bathroom and was ready for bed...which included a brief play interlude with Booth. She surmised from the flying noises, that her son would be dressed in superhero pyjamas. His high pitched giggles were interspersed with rapid babbling and infantile attempts to imitate the whooshing noises.

.

"Don't get Joey too excited Booth, otherwise he won't settle for Max," she hollered from the bathroom.

The whooshing noises ceased and she heard the sounds of Booth commiserating with Joey about the end of their fun game. Smiling to herself, she gave her bodice a final adjustment, assessed her reflection in the full length mirror on the back of the ensuite bathroom door and struck a pose. Her curves were back to normal...a lot of things were back to normal after five months back at home; working as a Forensic Anthropologist again, working with Booth, writing again, being a Mom..., albeit with some help from a Housekeeper and a Nanny to strike the right balance. Their Nanny, Amelia, was an amazing woman who had taught Joey baby sign language and was passionate about infant nutrition. Amelia had been recommended to them by Cam, she had been Michelle's Nanny until she'd turned twelve.

The bodice of her outfit was slightly uncomfortable on her still sensitive breasts. Seeing her reflection pout in the mirror, the tears started again; she sniffled and huffed at herself in frustration, stepping back to the vanity to grab tissues to prevent her make-up being ruined.

"Get a grip, Temperance!" she told her reflection in the vanity mirror, employing some of her newfound vernacular; an inevitable side effect of living with Seeley Booth. Taking a calming breath and straightening her posture, she assumed the confident poise of her character, hooked her golden Lasso on her hip and spun on her heel. After all, Wonder Woman wouldn't let a bad week get to her, right?

.

She found Booth carrying a more settled Joey in his arms, standing next to one of the many shelves containing artefacts from her travels. The lower shelves had become a child-proofed zone, where only the safe and non-breakable items from her collection lived now. They were already house-hunting with a view to moving in the New Year.

Joey was listening, rapt in the tall tale that his father was telling. Booth tried hard to get the details of the origin of the artefacts right in his stories, but inevitably, in the name of entertainment, his propensity for hyperbole and confabulation won out.

"So, Superman flew to the secret layer where the _ugliest_ fertility thingamabob in the entire world, called _Poochiemomma _was hidden. He froze the bad guys with his super-minty-fresh breath and grabbed the statue, but, oh no!..._Poochiemomma_ attacked," he said grabbing the statue and making _'nom nom'_ noises that suggested that the brown stone statue was trying to devour Joey, eliciting gales of baby laughter. "Then Superman subdued it with his super-strength, and with his _Superbaby_ side-kick, flew all the way home and put the statue _'back'_ where it belonged..." he turned with the fertility statue in one hand and Joey in Superman jammies, poised to fly, and froze.

"Before Mommy catches you?" said Brennan archly with a hand on her hip. "We should put _'Pachamama'_ back on the shelf now." She held out her hand and the statue was placed in her hand.

"Aww, all gone, Joey," said Booth with a grin at their son.

"Awwww..." mimicked Joey, his baby voice pitched perfectly, his blue eyes wide, with a mirrored grin. Brennan smiled and shook her head, knowing that resistance was futile against those charming grins combined.

.

She stepped over the toys scattered on the floor to the shelving unit and put the Pachamama statue back onto the top shelf. Her fingers trailed over the swollen belly of the fertility statue and she braced herself against the shelf as a sob escaped.

"Bones?" said Booth coming up behind her and putting a hand on her shoulder. Joey made an opportunistic grab for Wonder Woman's coronet. "Nuh-Uh, little buddy...Superman says, _nobody_ messes with Wonder Woman," he said, removing his baby grasp from the head gear.

"I'm fine," she said, holding up a hand.

"Sorry, not buying it...you've been edgy for a week...longer than PMS or any other normal girly stuff can account for," he took her gently by the arm and steered her to the couch, indicating she should sit.

Joey started babbling _'mamma'_ sounds and leaned out of his father's arms with his hands flailing. She smiled at her son and took a slightly pre-loved tissue from her cleavage and dabbed at her watery eyes, before reaching out for Joey. He managed to plant a sloppy baby kiss on her cheek before snuggling in against her chest and making _'nigh-nigh'_ sounds and hand signs, rubbing his eyes.

"That's right..." she soothed. "Almost bed time. Grandpa Max can read you a story if you're still awake when he arrives."

Booth swept his Superman cape to one side before taking a seat in the couch next to her. She leaned into him, and his Lycra clad arm slipped around her shoulders. "C'mon, tell me what's eating at you...surely you're not getting cold feet now...Only six weeks 'til we get married...getting scared?"

"No. Don't be ridiculous," she scoffed with a soft smile and a sideways glance at Booth, trying to deflect his queries.

He gave a weary sigh. "Temperance, this is about more than just a visit from the Period Fairy...I know you...I live with you...you had a pint of that god-awful Choc-mint Tofu ice-cream last Wednesday and used me as a human hot-pack...like you usually do. So give it up, or I'm gonna have to get you drunk enough to spill tonight, and you'll be pissed off when you wake up tomorrow and have to head into the Lab with a hangover and puffy eyes."

"Today is the last day of the month," she said. "Joey is almost asleep..." she mused, cuddling the baby.

"Yeah, Halloween, October 31st, your favourite night of the year," he said. "But I've never seen you cry in that Wonder Woman costume before."

.

"I check my IUD on the last day of the month...this morning, it was gone," she admitted after a couple of minutes of silence, her fingers tangling absently through Joey's dark curls.

"Whoa! Where'd it go?" he asked, with brows raised.

"It probably dislodged and flushed away some time during the last month...it happens...it's not worth putting a BOLO out on it..." she quipped and then sighed in exasperation. "I suppose I'll have to get another one, or commence oral contraceptives...I find this extremely annoying, I planned on addressing this issue after we got married," she said in a voice heavy with frustration. Tears began running down her cheeks and she turned her face into his neck.

"You don't want to do any of that, huh?" asked Booth. She simply shook her head. "So don't do it," he suggested.

"I don't know if I'm ready yet..." she mumbled against his skin.

He gave a wry chuckle and kissed the top of her head. "Oh you're ready...you wouldn't be so upset if you weren't; I know why, 'cause I know how you work through this kind of thing, Bones."

She sat forward and pushed herself off the couch, walking off toward the Nursery, carrying the now sleeping Joey. "Well, I'd appreciate it if you'd you tell me why, Booth, because I fail to see how my current frustration translates to an assessment of my readiness to conceive."

.

Booth followed her into the Nursery, where she placed Joey in the cot. Dancing _Jelly-Babies_ were being catapulted across the evening sky, projected over the ceiling, landing in a large fluffy cloud over the cot.

He stepped up behind her and wrapped his Superman cloak around her. "It's been a tough week, Bones...breaking that case...the victim was pregnant...even I choked up over the bones of that baby...Angela was so hysterical she had to go home."

"Fetal bones, particularly of a viable gestational age, are always distressing. I regret allowing Angela anywhere near them considering that her pregnancy is at the same stage of that of the victim when she was murdered," said Brennan flatly, emotionally stomping down on her empathetic response. "I myself, have a superior ability to detach from the distress."

"Yeah, I know," he replied. "But you still feel it before you detach from it, don't you?...just a little."

"Of course I do, I'm human...I'm a mother..." she said turning to face him. "But my _'feelings'_ are insignificant in the face of the need to identity remains...to help you detain the perpetrators."

He muzzled at her neck affectionately. "Look, even with the stress of our work aside, we've been talking about our plans a lot lately," he said, making a minor adjustment to her coronet. "The whole wedding, buying a house, trying for a brother or sister for Joey...you've been a little tired, a little grumpy, working too hard...not getting any lovin' for a few days...then you check and find your IED..."

"IUD...Booth, there is nothing _'improvised'_ or _'explosive'_ about it," she said with a smirk.

"Yeah, yeah, just trying not to think about it..._icky, lady stuff_...the thing is gone, could have been gone for a month...you could have gotten pregnant again, ready or not," he suggested.

She shrugged in nonchalance. "Those variables are unknown, but I accept that the scenario could have resulted in that outcome...but there is no point in discussing what might have been, when it never happened."

.

"D'you think you would have fainted _again_, finding out you were having another baby?" he asked with a grin.

She gave him a suspicious look and smiled. "I was in shock...and I never told you about that..."

"Eileen might have mentioned it," hedged Booth with a chuckle.

"Well, that is highly likely, seeing as she is the one who caught me when I passed out," she confirmed. "I have no idea why it actually happened."

"Next time, I'll catch you, okay?" said Booth, flexing his upper body in his Superman costume.

"Are you expecting me to swoon at that Alpha Male display?" she asked, putting a hand on her hip and pushing out her chest defiantly.

He looked down at the cleavage on display in the Wonder Woman bustier. "No, but if you wanted to try for another baby, you should know that I'm happy to start now; to be completely honest, right this minute would be fine with me."

.

"We are required to go to the Jeffersonian Halloween Ball, Booth...and my father will be here any moment," she reasoned running her hands over his acromia.

He shook his head regretfully as she took his hand and led him out of the Nursery. They wandered hand in hand out to the main living area, making their way over to the couch, but only made it half-way across the room. Booth stopped mid-stride, turned and pulled her into an embrace.

"I've got an idea..." he murmured low and gravelly against her ear.

"This I have to hear..." she said, attempting to capture his ear between her teeth.

He backed her up against the brickwork next to the long shelving unit and began an exploration of her body with his hands that would have gotten Superman expelled from the Justice League. "How about we call Max and tell him to stay home..."

"Too late for that, G-man!" said Max, sat casually in an armchair in a darkened corner of the room.

"What the...?" exclaimed Booth.

"Hey, I knocked, there was no answer, so I let myself in, seeing as I was expected," said Max, completely unperturbed. "The two of you should get going. Dr. Saroyan was looking mighty fine in her Catwoman suit when I left the Jeffersonian an hour ago, she mentioned some sort of rivalry for the best female superhero."

.

"Eh, everybody knows that Wonder Woman is the best," said Booth.

"That is correct, and if by _'everybody' _you mean my colleagues; the consensus at the Lab is almost unanimous in this opinion," added Brennan.

Max gave a chuckle. "No argument from me Tempe, but we're all pretty biased when it comes to you, and Wonder Woman,...especially Booth, who is being seriously brave wearing that skin tight Lycra suit."

Brennan looked down and gave a snort of laughter. "I agree. From where I'm standing, the Lycra leaves very little to the imagination."

"If the two of you don't leave soon, I'll be forced to rip _my_ imagination out with my bare hands and jump up and down on it until I get that image out of my mind," said Max with a grimace.

"Then we should go," suggested Booth, modestly pulling his Superman cape around himself to spare the life of Max Keenan's imagination.

Striding over to place a kiss on her father's cheek, she grabbed her keys and cape. "We'll be back by eleven...Joey should be down for the night...you know where everything is. Call if you need us," she said.

.

Watching his daughter leave with her partner, in every sense of the word, Max Keenan smiled to himself. As the front door closed, he went into the kitchen and began to make himself a cup of tea. Knowing that the doorman wouldn't allow any _'trick or treaters'_ past the foyer of the building, the old badass decided that he would go and sit in the Nursery rocking chair and watch his grandson sleep. Life didn't get much better than this.

* * *

**Extended A/N:**

_Firstly, I just want to thank everyone for reading, what has been to date, the largest creative undertaking that I have ever attempted. The support and feedback and encouragement has been awesome, the friends that I have made along the way are brilliant, the BONES communities that I have been involved with, are just… something else._

_This story really started out as a reactive 'what the Hell?' piece that emerged as Chapter One 'The Australian Guy'...when I wrote it, TPTB had already blurted that Booth would be coming back from Afghanistan with a woman, so I completely dissociated from that and proposed a trip down 'Progeny Road'. The fact that so many readers were on board for the ride when I asked who wanted the back-story was quite a thrill, and also very therapeutic, because I knew that the true return to Season 6 would be nothing like the tale I had in mind. The year separation was truncated to seven months in the BONES Universe as the summer hiatus wore on...but my story committed to a year, thus it stayed that way. It is also interesting to note that I am posting this final installment on another reactive 'what the Hell?' day...following the screening of 'The Daredevil in the Mold'...my reaction to that? Well, that's another story...*insert evil chuckling here*_

_Progeny was never intended to be a gooey pile of fluffiness, but it sure did have its moments...the main aim was to attempt to keep the characters that we know and love in character, even thought the scenario and plot lines were completely AU. Indonesia is a few short hours away from my home, I've never been there & after Bali in 2002, I've never had any inclination to do so. As our closest neighbour, I've been involved in plenty of medivacs and humanitarian responses in the region, so I know enough about the place itself._

_Obviously, Perth is my home, on the West Coast of Oz, Monkey Mia is as described in this story...an isolated, achingly beautiful, and relatively unspoiled part of the world, which is 865 kilometers, or 537 miles from where I live. It takes around ten hours to drive there, or three hours to fly. Our state is three and a half times bigger than Texas, with only ten percent of their population - Yup! We're isolated. Our one 'big' city is beautiful, has wonderful weather and a laid back atmosphere, so it made sense to me to have some of the story set here, and in Monkey Mia, as a place where a baby could come into the world._

_I was quite disappointed about the lack of communication between our favourite characters in Season 6 - it made very little sense to me, because these people are not Luddites...which is why I was pleased to be able to write something where the technology used to communicate on cases etc., could be used to keep in touch. Long distance relationships are desperately difficult, being pregnant can be difficult too, and being in love is never, ever, easy. _

_The medical and physical side of the story is purposely as factual as possible, I don't like to gloss over the scientific realities of the human body...but this is tempered by awareness that there is no need to make things too graphic. I know that I put a couple of younger readers off childbirth...take heart; it's just a day in your life, with a pay-off beyond measure. Yes, I'm a parent; but my own personal experience has no bearing on this story; far from it._

_So now, I bid this tale 'adieu' and will ask that if you are reading this story in its completed state, or you've been patiently following from the start, drop me a line...hit that review button...let me know that this story perhaps meant to you, a little of what it meant to me. _

_My profound thanks,_

_Skole_


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